- Hji V*. .. 




































RULES AN 

MANL S 


.ATIONS OF THE 
DING ROOM 


Rules and Regulations of the Manlius Read- 
ing Room 


The privileges of the Reading Room are 
free to all residents of Manlius and sur- 
rounding country, if over eight years of 
age. 

Any one wishing to draM^hooks must ap- 
ply in person and gi^^^Reir signature. 
After that hooks may ^ajurawn by a mem- 
ber of the family ni\ a^riend if so desired. 

The Reading iW&i will be open for the 
loaning of boqASimd gent ” -• vmm 

purposes oi^Wesday, T 
urday aftrffr^ns from thi 
and Saturcray evenings fr< 
thirty. Holidays excepted 

Two books may be dr 
but only one of fiction. 

Books may be retainer 
must then be returned to 
may be stamped by the 1 
and taken for a further 
desired. 

Any book kept more 
will have a fine of two ce 
against its borrower. 

Any book one week ov( 
for by the librarian and 
lected. 

Books may be used bj 
. household only and not* 

Any book lost or 
for by the borrow 

The borrowe^aS^resp 
until they have nb€en acc< ■ -■<! .‘••v.! 

by the librarian. 

In case of a contagious U1 IllCtliglKXJLXl. uiu 
ease in a household, no books may be taken 
or returned therefrom- 

The presence of children under eight 
years of age is not desired in the Reading 
Room during library hours as they annoy 
readers and interefere with the coirrect 
work of the librarians. 

No loud talking or discussion will be per- 
mitted in the Reading Room. 



r" 

6'j 







* 


I 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY’S HEIR 


A TALE OF THE GOLD FIELDS OF CALIFORNIA. 


By G. A. HENTY, 

Author of “ Bonnie Prince Charlie ," ''With Clive in India," “ The Dragon and 
the Raven “ The Young Carthaginian," "The Lion of the North," 
"With Lee in Virginia," "By Pike and Dike," “ Under 
Drake's Flag," "By England's Aid," "In 
Freedom's Cause," "In the Reign 
of Terror etc., etc. 



ILLUSTRATED BY H. M. PAGET. 


NEW YORK; 

A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER, 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

Pace. 

Westminster! Westminster! 1 

CHAPTER II. 

A Cold Swim 15 

CHAPTER III. 

A Cripple Boy 30 

CHAPTER IV. 

An Adopted Child 44 

CHAPTER V. 

A Terrible Accusation 59 

CHAPTER VI. 

At New Orleans 74 

CHAPTER VII. 

On the Mississippi 87 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Starting for the West 105 

CHAPTER IX. 

On the Plains 129 

CHAPTER X. 

A Buffalo Story 146 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XI. 

Page. 

How Dick Lost His Scalp 158 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Attack on the Caravan . 176 

CHAPTER XIII. 

At the Gold-fields 191 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Captain Bayley 204 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Missing Heir 218 

CHAPTER XVI. 

John Holl, Dust Contractor 281 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Lonely Diggers 246 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A Dream Verified 265 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Striking it Rich 281 

CHAPTER XX. 

A Message from Abroad 296 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Happy Meetings 313 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Cleared at Last 326 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


CHAPTER I. 

WESTMINSTER ! WESTMIN STER ! 

A cripple boy was sitting in a box on four low wheels, 
in a little room in a small street in Westminster; his age 
was some fifteen or sixteen years; his face was clear-cut 
and intelligent, and was altogether free from the expression 
either of discontent or of shrinking sadness so often seen 
in the face of those afflicted. Had he been sitting on a 
chair at a table, indeed, he would have been remarked as a 
handsome and well-grown young fellow ; his shoulders were 
broad, his arms powerful, and his head erect. He had not 
been born a cripple, but had been disabled for life, when a 
tiny child, by a cart passing over his legs above the knees. 
He was talking to a lad a year or so younger than himself 
while a strong, hearty-looking woman, somewhat past mid- 
dle age, stood at a wash tub. 

“ What is all that noise about?” the cripple exclaimed, 
as an uproar was heard in the street at some little distance 
from the house. 

“Drink, as usual, I suppose,” the woman said. 

The younger lad ran to the door. 

“No, mother; it’s them scholars a-coming back from 
cricket. Ain’t there a fight jist!” 

The cripple wheeled his box to the door, and then tak- 
ing a pair of crutches which rested in hooks at its side 
when not wanted, swung himself from the box, and 


2 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S BEIR. 


propped himself in the doorway so as to command a view 
down the street. 

It was indeed a serious fight. A party of Westminster 
boys, on their way back from their cricket-ground in St. 
Vincent’s Square, had been attacked by the “skies.” The 
quarrel was an old standing one, but had broken out afresh 
from a thrashing which one of the older lads had admin- 
istered on the previous day to a young chimney-sweep 
about his own age, who had taken possession of the cricket- 
ball when it had been knocked into the roadway, and had, 
with much strong language, refused to throw it back when 
requested. 

The friends of the sweep determined to retaliate upon 
the following day, and gathered so threateningly round the 
gate that, instead of the boys coming home in twos and 
threes, as was their wont, when playtime expired, they 
returned in a body. They were some forty in number, 
and varied in age from the little fags of the under school, 
ten or twelve years old, to brawny muscular young fellows 
of seventeen or eighteen, senior queen’s scholars, or sixth 
form town boys. The queen’s scholars were in their caps 
and gowns, the town boys were in ordinary attire, a few 
only having flannel cricketing trousers. 

On first leaving the field they were assailed only by 
volleys of abuse; but as they made their way down the 
street their assailants grew bolder, and from words pro- 
ceeded to blows, and soon a desperate fight was raging. 
In point of numbers the “skies” were vastly superior, and 
many of them were grown men; blit the knowledge of 
boxing which almost every Westminster boy in those days 
possessed, and the activity and quickness of hitting of the 
boys, went far to equalize the odds. 

Pride in their school, too,, would have rendered it impos- 
sible for any to show the white feather on such an occasion 
as this, and with the younger boys as far as possible in 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LET 'S IIEIU. 


a 


their center, the seniors faced their opponents manfully. 
Even the lads of but thirteen and fourteen years old were 
not idle. Taking from the fags the bats which several of 
the latter were carrying, they joined in the conflict, not 
striking at their opponents’ heads, but occasionally aiding 
their seniors, when attacked by three or four at once, by 
swinging blows on their assailants’ shins. 

Man after man among the crowd had gone down before 
the blows straight from the shoulder of the boys, and 
many had retired from the contest with faces which would 
for many days bear marks of the fight; but their places 
were speedily filled up, and the numbers of the assailants 
grew stronger every minute. 

“How well they fight!” the cripple exclaimed. “Splen- 
did! isn’t it, mother? But there are too many against 
them. Run, Evan, quick, down to Dean’s Yard; you are 
sure to find some of them playing at racquets in the Little 
Yard, tell them that the boys coming home from cricket 
have been attacked, and that unless help comes they will 
be terribly knocked about.” 

Evan dashed off at full speed. Dean’s Yard was but a 
few minutes’ run distant. He dashed through the little 
archway into the yard, down the side, and then in at 
another archway into Little Dean’s Yard, where some elder 
boys were playing at racquets. A fag was picking up the 
balls, and two or three others were standing at the top of 
the steps of the two boarding-houses. 

“If you please, sir,” Evan said, running up to one of 
the racquet-players, “there is just a row going on; they 
are all pitching into the scholars on their way back from 
Vincent Square, and if you don’t send help they will get it 
nicely, though they are all fighting like bricks.” 

“ Here, all of you,” the lad -he addressed shouted to the 
others; “our fellows are attacked by the ‘skies’ on their 
way back from the fields. Run up college, James; the 


4 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


fellows from the water have come back.” Then he turned 
to the boys on the steps, ‘‘Bring all the fellows out quick; 
the ‘skies’ are attacking us on the way back from the fields. 
Don’t let them wait a moment.” 

It was lucky that the boys who had been on the water 
in the two eights, the six, and the fours, had returned, or 
at that hour there would have been few in the boarding- 
houses or up college. Ere a minute had elapsed these, 
with a few others who had been kept off field and water 
from indisposition, or other causes, came pouring out at 
the summons — a body some thirty strong, of whom fully 
half were big boys. They dashed out of the gate in a 
body, and made their way to the scene of the conflict. 
They were but just in time; the compact group of the 
boys had been broken up, and every one now was fighting 
for himself. 

They had made but little progress toward the school 
since Evan had started, and the fight was now raging 
opposite his house. The cripple was almost crying with ex- 
citement and at his own inability to join in the fight going 
on. His sympathies were wholly with “the boys,” toward 
whose side he was attached by the disparity of their num- 
bers compared to those of their opponents, and by the cool- 
ness and resolution with which they fought. 

“Just look at those two, mother — those two fighting 
back to back. Isn’t it grand! There! there is another 
one down; that is the fifth I have counted. Don’t they 
fight cool and steady? and they almost look smiling, 
though the odds against them are ten to one. Oh mother, 
if I could but go to help them !” 

Mrs. IIoll herself was not without sharing his excite- 
ment. Several times she made sorties from her doorstep, 
and seized more than one hulking fellow in the act of 
pummeling a youngster half his size, and shook him with 
a vigor which showed that constant exercise at the wash- 
tub had strengthened her arms. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


5 


“Yer ought to be ashamed of yerselves, yer ought; a 
whole crowd of yer pitching into a handful o’ boys.” 

But her remonstrances were unheeded in the din, which, 
however, was raised entirely by the assailants, the boys, 
fighting silently, save when an occasional shout of “ Hurrah, 
Westminster !” was raised. Presently Evan dashed through 
the crowd up to the door. 

“Are they coming, Evan?” the cripple asked eagerly. 

“Yes, ’Arry; they will be ’ere in a jiffy.” 

A half-minute later, and with shouts of “Westminster! 
Westminster!” the reinforcement came tearing up the 
street. 

Their arrival in an instant changed the face of things. 
The “skies” for a moment or two resisted; but the muscles 
of the eight — hardened by the training which had lately 
given them victory over Eton in their annual race — stood 
them in good stead, and the hard hitting of the “water” 
soon beat back the lately triumphant assailants of “ cricket.” 
The united band took the offensive, and in two or three 
minutes the “skies” were in full flight. 

“We were just in time, Norris,” one of the newcomers 
said to the tall lad in cricketing flannels whose straight 
hitting had particularly attracted the admiration of Harry 
Holl. 

“Only just,” the other said, smiling; “it was a hot 
thing, and a pretty sight we shall look up school to- 
morrow. I shall have two thundering black eyes, and my 
mouth won’t look pretty for a fortnight; and, by the look 
of them, most of the others have fared worse. It’s the 
biggest fight we have had for years. But I don’t think 
the ‘skies’ will interfere with us again for some time, for 
every mark we’ve got they’ve got ten. Won’t there be a 
row in school to-morrow when Litter; sees that half the 
sixth can’t see out of their eyes.” 

Not for many years had the lessons at Westminster been 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 




so badly prepared as they were upon the following morning 
— indeed, with the exception of the half and home- 
boarders, few of whom had shared in the fight, not a single 
boy, from the under school to the sixth, had done an 
exercise or prepared a lesson. Study indeed had been ont 
of the question, for all were too excited and too busy talk- 
ing over the details of the battle to be able to give the 
slightest attention to their work. 

Many were the tales of feats of individual prowess; but 
all who had taken part agreed that none had so distin- 
guished themselves as Frank Norris, a sixth form town 
boy, and captain of the eight — who, for a wonder had for 
once been up at fields — and Fred Barkley, a senior in the 
sixth. But, grievous and general as was the breakdown 
in lessons next day, no impositions were set; the boarding- 
house masters, Richards and Sargent, had of course heard 
all about it at tea-time, as had Johns, who did not himself 
keep a boarding-house, but resided at Carr’s, the boarding- 
house down by the great gate. 

These, therefore, were prepared for the state of things, 
and contented themselves by ordering the forms under 
their charge to set to work with their dictionaries and 
write out the lessons they should have prepared. The 
sixth did not get off so easily. Dr. Litter, in his lofty soli- 
tude as head-master, had heard nothing of what had 
passed; nor was it until the sixth took their places in the 
library and began to construe that his attention was called 
to the fact that something unusual had happened. But 
the sudden hesitation and blundering of the first “put on,” 
and the inability of those next to him to correct him, were 
too marked to be passed over, and he raised his gold- 
rimmed eye-glasses to his eyes and looked round. 

Dr. Litter was a man standing some six feet two in 
height, stately in manner, somewhat sarcastic in speech, a 
very prodigy in classical learning, and joint author of the 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


1 


great treatise “On The Uses of the Greek Particle.” 
Searchingly he looked from face to face round the library. 

“I cannot,” he said, with a curl of his upper lip, and 
the cold and somewhat nasal tone which set every nerve 
in a boy’s body twitching when he heard it raised in 
reproof, “1 really cannot congratulate you on your appear- 
auce. I thought that the sixth form of Westminster was 
composed of gentlemen, but it seems to me now as if it 
consisted of a number of singularly disreputable-looking 
prize-fighters. What does all this mean, Williams?” he 
asked, addressing the captain 5* “your facetappears to have 
met with better usage than some of the others.” 

“It means, sir,” Williams said, “that as the party from 
fields were coming back yesterday evening, they were 
attacked by the ‘skies ’ — I mean by the roughs — and got 
terribly knocked about. When the news came to us I was 
up college, and the fellows had just come back from the 
water, so of course we all sallied out to rescue them.” 

“Did it not occur to you, Williams, that there is a body 
called the police, whose duty it is to interfere in disgrace- 
ful uproars of this sort?” 

“If we had waited for the police, sir,” Williams said, 
“half the school would not have been fit to take their 
places in form again before the end of the term.” 

“It does not appear to me,” Dr. Litter said, “that a 
great many of them are fit to take their places at present. 
I can scarcely see Norris’ eyes; and I suppose that boy is 
Barkley, as he sits in the place that he usually occupies, 
otherwise, I should not have recognized him ; and Smart, 
Robertson, and Barker and Barret are nearly as bad. I 
suppose you feel satisfied with yourselves, boys, and con- 
sider that this sort of thing is creditable to you; to my 
mind it is simply disgraceful. There! I don’t want to 
hear any more at present; I suppose the whole school is in 
the same state. Those of you who can see had better go 


8 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


back to school and prepare your Demosthenes; those avIio 
cannot had best go back to their boarding-houses, or up 
college, and let the doctor be sent for to see if anything 
can be'done for you.” 

The doctor had indeed already been sent for, for some 
seven or eight of the younger boys had been so seriously 
knocked about and kicked that they were unable to leave 
their beds. For the rest a doctor could do nothing. 
Fights were not uncommon at Westminster in those days, 
but the number of orders for beefsteaks which the nearest 
butcher had received on the previous evening had fairly 
astonished him. Indeed, had it not been for the prompt 
application of these to their faces, very few of the party 
from the fields would have been able to find their way up 
school unless they had been led by their comrades. 

At Westminster there was an hour’s school before break- 
fast, and when nine o’clock struck, and the boys poured 
out, Dr. Litter and his under-masters held council together. 

“This is a disgraceful business!” Dr. Litter said, look- 
ing, as was his wont, at some distant object far over the 
heads of the others. 

There was a general murmur of assent. 

“The boys do not seem to have been much to blame,” 
Mr. Bichards suggested in the cheerful tone habitual to 
him. “From what I can hear it seems to have been a 
planned thing; the people gathered round the gates before 
they left the fields and attacked them without any provo- 
cation.” 

“There must have been some provocation somewhere, 
Mr. Richards, if not yesterday, then the day before, or the 
day before that,” Dr. Litter said, twirling his eyeglass by 
the ribbon. “A whole host of people do not gather to 
assault forty or fifty boys without provocation. This sort 
of thing must not occur again. I do not see that I can 
punish one boy without punishing the whole school; but, 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HE 


at any rate, for the next week fields must be stopped. I 
shall write to the commissioner of police, asking that when 
they again go to Vincent Square some policemen~may bo 
put on duty, not of course to accompany them, Hulrfio 
interfere at once if they see any signs of a repetition of 
this business. I shall request that, should there be any 
fighting, those not belonging to the school who commit 
an assault may be taken before a magistrate; my own boys 
I can punish myself. Are any of the boys seriously injured, 
do you think?” 

“I hope not, sir,” Mr. Richards said ; “there are three 
or four in my house, and there are ten at Mr. Sargent’s, 
and two at Carr’s, who have gone on the sick list. I sent 
for the doctor, and he may have seen them by this time; 
they all seem to have been knocked down and kicked.” 

“There are four of the juniors at college in the 
infirmary,” Mr. Wire, who was in special charge of the 
queen’s scholars, put in. “I had not heard about it last 
night, and was in ignorance of what had taken place until 
the list of those who had gone into the infirmary was put 
Into my hands, and then I heard from Williams what had 
taken place.” 

“It is very unpleasant,” Dr. Litter said, in a weary tone 
of voice — as if boys were a problem far more difficult to be 
mastered than any that the Greek authors afforded him — 
“ that one cannot trust boys to keep out of mischief for an 
hour. Of course with small boys this sort of thing is to be 
expected; but that young fellows like Williams and the 
other seniors, and the sixth town boys, who are on the eve 
of going up to the universities, should so far forget them- 
selves is very surprising.” 

“But even at the university, Dr. Litter,” Mr. Richards 
said, with a passing thought of his own experience, “town 
and gown rows take place.” 

“All the worse,” Dr. Litter replied, “all the worse. Of 


10 


CAPTAIN BAY LET'S HEIR. 


course there are wild young men at the universities.” 
Dr. Litter himself, it is scarcely necessary to say, had 
never been wild, the study of the Greek particles had 
absorbed all his thoughts. “Why,” he continued, “young 
men should condescend to take part in disgraceful affrays 
of this kind passes my understanding. Mr. Wire, you 
will inform Williams that for the rest of the week no boy 
is to go to fields.” 

So saying, he strode off in the direction of his own door, 
next to the archway, for the conversation had taken place 
at the foot of the steps leading into school from Little 
Dean’s Yard. There was some grumbling when the head- 
master’s decision was known; but it was, nevertheless, felt 
that it was a wise one, and that it was better to allow the 
feelings to calm down before again going through West- 
minster between Dean’s Yard and the field, for not even 
the most daring would have cared for a repetition of the 
struggle. 

Several inquiries were made as to the lad who had 
brought the news of the light, and so enabled the rein- 
forcements to arrive in time; and had he been discovered a 
handsome subscription would have been got up to reward 
his timely service, but no one knew anything about him. 

The following week, when cricket was resumed, no 
molestation was offered. The better part of the working- 
classes who inhabited the neighborhood were indeed 
strongly in favor of the “boys,” and liked to see their 
bright young faces as they passed home from their cricket; 
the pluck too with which they had fought was highly 
appreciated, and so strong a feeling was expressed against 
the attack made upon them, that the rough element 
deemed it better to abstain from further interruption, 
especially as there were three or four extra police put upon 
the beat at the hours when the “boys” wont to and from 
Vincent Square. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


11 


It was, however, some time before the “great fight” 
ceased to be a subject of conversation among the boys. At 
five minutes to ten on the morning when Dr. Litter had 
put a stop to fields, two of the younger boys — who were as 
usual, just before school-time, standing in the archway 
leading into Little Dean’s Yard to warn the school of the 
issuing out of the head-master — were talking of the fight 
of the evening before; both had been present, having been 
fagging out at cricket for their masters. 

“I wonder which would lick, Norris or Barkley. What 
a splendid fight it would be!” 

“You will never see that, Fairlie, for they are cousins 
and great friends. It would be a big fight, and I expect 
it would be a draw. I know who I should shout for.” 

“Oh, of course, we should all be for Norris, he is such a 
jolly fellow; there is no one in the school I would so readily 
fag for. Instead of saying, ‘Here, you fellow, come and 
pick up balls,’ or, ‘Take my bat up to fields,’ he says, ‘I 
say, young Fairlie, I wish you would come and pick up 
balls for a bit, and in a quarter of an hour you can call 
some other under school boy to take your place,’ just as 
if it were a favor, instead of his having the right to put 
one on if he pleased. I should like to be his fag; and he 
never allows any bullying up at Richards’. I wish we had 
him at Sargent’s.” 

“Yes, and Barkley is quite a different sort of fellow. I 
don’t know that he is a bully, but somehow he seems to 
have a disagreeable way with him, a cold, nasty, hard sort 
of way ; he walks along as if he never noticed the existence 
of an under school boy, while Norris always has a pleasant 
nod for a fellow.” 

“Here’s Litter.” 

At this moment a door in the wall under the archway 
opened, and the head-master appeared. As he came out 
the five or six small boys standing round raised a tremen- 


12 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY'S HEIR. 


dons sliout of “Litter’s coming.” A shout so loud that it 
was heard not only in college and the hoarding-houses in 
Little Dean’s Yard, but at Carr’s across by the archway, 
and even at Sutcliffe’s shop outside the yard, where some 
of the boys were purchasing sweets for consumption in 
school. A fag at the door of each of the boarding-houses 
took up the cry, and the hoys at once came pouring out. 

The doctor, as if unconscious of the din raised round 
him, walked slowly along halfway to the door of the 
school; here he was joined by the other masters, and they 
stood chatting in a group for about two minutes, giving 
ample time for the boys to go up school, though those 
from Carr’s, having much further to go, had to run for it, 
and not unfrequently had to rush past the masters as the 
latter mounted the wide stone steps leading up to the 
school. 

The school was a great hall, which gave one the idea 
that it was almost coeval with the abbey to which it was 
attached, although it was not built until some hundreds of 
years later. The walls were massive, and of great height, 
and were covered from top to bottom with the painted 
names of old boys, some of which had been there, as was 
shown by the dates under them, close upon a hundred 
years. The roof was supported on great beams, and both 
in its proportions and style the school was a copy in small 
of the great hall of Westminster. 

At the furthermost end from the door was a semicircular 
alcove, known as the “shell,” which gave its name to the 
form sitting there. On both sides ran rows of benches and 
narrow desks, three deep, raised one above the other. On 
the left hand on entering was the under school, and, 
standing on the floor in front of it, was the armchair of 
Mr. Wire. Next came the monitor’s desk, at which the 
captain and two monitors sat. In an open drawer in front 
of the table were laid the rods, which were not unfrequently 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY'S HEIR . 


13 


called into requisition. Extending up to the end were the 
seats of the sixth. The “upper shell” occupied the 
alcove; the “under shell” were next to them, on the 
further benches on the right-hand side. Mr. Richards 
presided over the “shell.” Mr. Sargent took the upper 
and under fifth, who came next to them, and “Johnny,” 
as Mr. Johns was called, looked after the two fourths, 
who occupied benches on the right hand of the door. 

By the time the masters entered the school all the boys 
were in their places. The doors were at once shut, then 
the masters knelt on one knee in a line, one behind the 
other, in order of seniority, and the junior queen’s scholar 
whose turn it was knelt in front of them, and in a loud 
tone read the Lord’s Prayer in Latin. Then the masters 
proceeded to their places, and school began, the names of 
all who came in late being taken down to be punished with 
impositions. 

So large and lofty was the hall that the voices were lost 
in its space, and the forms were able to work without dis- 
turbing each other any more than if they had been in sepa- 
rate rooms. The sixth only were heard apart, retiring into 
the library with the doctor. His seat, when in school, 
was at a table in the center of the hall, near the upper end. 

Thus Westminster differed widely from the great modern 
schools, with their separate class-rooms and lecture-rooms. 
Discipline was not very strict. When a master was hear- 
ing one of the forms under him the other was supposed to 
be preparing its next lessons, but a buzz of quiet talk went 
on steadily. Occasionally, once or twice a week perhaps, 
a boy would be seen to go up from one of the lower forms 
with a note in his hand to the head-master; then there 
was an instant pause in the talking. 

Dr. Litter would rise from his seat, and a monitor at 
once brought him a rod. These instruments of punish- 
ment were about three feet six inches long; they were 


14 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'8 HEIR. 


formed of birch twigs, very tightly bound together, and 
about the thickness of the handle of a bat; beyond this 
handle some ten or twelve twigs extended for about eight- 
een inches. The doctor seldom made any remark beyond 
giving the order, “Hold out your hand.” 

The unfortunate to be punished held out his arm at a 
level with his shoulder, back uppermost. Raising his arm 
so that the rod fell almost straight behind his back, Dr. 
Litter would bring it down, stroke after stroke, with a 
passionless and mechanical air, but with a sweeping force 
which did its work thoroughly. Four cuts was the normal 
number, but if it was the third time a boy had been sent 
up during the term he would get six. But four sufficed 
to swell the back of the hand, and cover it with narrow 
weals and bruises. It was of course a point of honor that 
no sound should be uttered during punishment. When it 
was over the doctor would throw the broken rod scornfully 
upon the ground and return to his seat. The junior then 
carried it away and placed a fresh one upon the desk. 

The rods were treated with a sort of reverence, for no 
junior queen’s scholar ever went up or down school for 
any purpose without first going over to the monitor’s table 
and lightly touching the rod as he passed. 

Such was school at Westminster forty years since, and it 
has but little changed to the present day. 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'8 HEIR. 


15 


CHAPTER !L 

A COLD SWIM. 

It ts winter. Christmas is close at hand, and promises 
to be a bitterly cold one. The ice has formed smooth and 
black across the Serpentine, and a number of people are 
walking along by its banks, looking forward to some grand 
skating if the frost does but hold two days longer. The 
sky is blue, and the sun shining brightly; the wind is fresh 
and keen; it is just the day when people well-clad, well-fed, 
and in strong health, feel their blood dancing more freely 
than usual through their veins, and experience an unusual 
exhilaration of spirits. Merry laughter often rises from 
the groups on the bank, and the air rings with the sharp 
sound made by pieces of ice sent skimming by mischievous 
boys over the glassy surface, to the disgust of skaters, who 
foresee future falls as the result of these fragments should 
a slight thaw freeze them to the surface. 

Among those walking by the edge of the ice were Frank 
Norris and Fred Barkley; with them was a bright-faced 
girl of some fourteen years old. Alice Hardy was cousin 
to both the young fellows, and was a ward of their uncle, 
Captain Bayley, an old and very wealthy retired officer of 
the East India Company Service. His fortune had not 
been acquired in India, but had descended to him from his 
father, of whom he had been the youngest son. His elder 
brothers had died off one by one, all unmarried or child- 
less, and soon after he obtained his commission he was 


16 CAPTAIN BA YJLEY’S UElU. 

recalled home to take his place as the next heir to his 
father’s estates; then he had married. 

Soon after he succeeded to the property his wife died, 
leaving him a little girl, who was called Ella after her. 
Captain Bayley was hot and passionate. His daughter 
grew up fiery and proud. Her father was passionately 
fond of her; but just when she reached the age of twenty, 
and had taken her place as one of the leading belles of 
Worcestershire, she disappeared suddenly from the circle 
of her acquaintances. What had happened no one ever 
knew. That there had been some terrible quarrel was 
certain. It was understood that Captain Bayley wished no 
questions to be asked. Her disappearance was a nine days’ 
wonder in Worcestershire. Some said ..she had turned 
Roman Catholic and gone into a convent; others that she 
must have eloped, although with whom no one could guess. 
But at last the subject died out, until two years later Cap- 
tain Bayley and his household appeared in mourning, and 
it was briefly announced that his daughter was dead. 

Captain Bayley went about as before, peppery, kind- 
hearted, perhaps a little harder and more cynical than 
before, but a very popular personage in Worcestershire. 
Those who knew him best thought him the most altered, 
and said that although he appeared to bear the blow lightly 
he felt deeply at heart the death of his daughter. His 
nearest heirs now were his two nephews, Frank Norris and 
Barkley, sons of his married sisters. Alice Hardy bore no 
relation to him. For some years speculation had been rife 
as to which of his two nephews he would select as his heir. 

Two years before this story begins Alice Hardy’s father 
and mother had both died of typhoid fever, leaving Captain 
Bayley as guardian to their daughter. Somewhat to the 
surprise of his friends the old officer not only accepted the 
trust, but had Alice installed at his house, there to be 
educated by a governess instead of being sent to school. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


11 

But although in a short time she came to be regarded as 
the daughter of the house, no one thought that Captain 
Bayley would make her his heiress, as she had inherited a 
considerable fortune from her father; and the two lads at 
Westminster were still regarded as rivals for the heirship. 

Captain Bayley had never been on good terms with 
either of his brothers-in-law; both had been merchants in 
the city, and the old officer considered that his sisters had 
made mesalliances in marrying them. Frank’s father and 
mother had died within a few months of each other, when 
he was about twelve years old; Captain Bayley’s house had 
since been his home. Fred was often invited to stay with 
his uncle down in Worcestershire, and his London house 
in Eaton Square was always open to him. Frank had 
never counted on the probability of his uncle leaving him 
any money. Certainly he never for a moment built castles 
in the air founded upon the chance of the inheritance. 
His father had been an easy-going and somewhat careless 
man, and would sometimes laugh with the boy in speaking 
of his future and predicting what he would do if he were 
come into old Bayley’s estates. None of the captain’s 
intimates could — had they been asked — have declared a 
preference for the chances of either lad. Fred was cer- 
tainly the cleverest. He had gone into college head of his 
year, and would have been captain, had not one of those 
of the year before him, who had got into college under age, 
elected to stay a year longer at school, and therefore by 
right became captain, while Fred had to be content with 
the honors of head monitor. Frank, on the other hand, 
had failed to get into college at all, and had remained a 
town boy. 

Although it could not be said of Fred that in any open 
way he laid himself out to gain his uncle’s favor, he was 
yet decidedly more attentive than was Frank, and would 
give up any other eugagement he might have if Captain 


18 


CAPTAIN PA f LEY'S HE TP. 


Bayley invited him to stay the Saturday and Sunday In 
Eaton Square, while Frank went carelessly his own way. 
And while there was nothing in the smallest degree servile 
in Fred’s manner — for this indeed Captain Bayley would 
have instantly noticed and resented — there was just that 
slight deference which a young fellow should exhibit in 
conversation with an elder, while Frank on the other hand, 
carelessly expressed his own opinion and ideas, which often 
differed very widely from those of the old officer. 

Captain Bayley’s own manner evinced no shade of par- 
tiality for one nephew over the other ; and although Alice 
had a sort of faint suspicion that Frank, who was certainly 
her own favorite, was also that of her uncle, she could have 
given no reason for her belief. 

In person the cousins were remarkably dissimilar. 
Frank was two inches the tallest, and had a still greater 
advantage in width. It was clear that he would grow into 
a big man, but his figure was at present loose and unformed ; 
he had dark brown hair, w T ith^ a slight wave, and would 
hardly have been called good-looking, were it not for his 
open, fearless expression and merry smile. 

Fred’s figure, although less strongly built, was far 4 more 
formed, and it was probable that years would effect but 
little change in it. There was a sinew and wire in his 
frame which would have told an athlete of great latent 
strength in the slight figure. His hair was light, his fea- 
tures clear and sharply cut, and the face a decidedly intel- 
lectual one. His manner was somewhat cold and 
restrained, but pleasant and courteous to men older than 
himself; both young fellows carried themselves well, with 
a certain ease of bearing, and that nameless air of com- 
mand which distinguish most young men who have passed 
through the upper forms of a great public school. 

Both lads had their circle of friends and admirers at 
school, but Frank’s was by far the largest. He was indeed 


CAPTAIN B ALLEY'S HEIR. 


19 


universally popular, which was far from being the case 
with his cousin. Upon the other hand, while Frank 
seemed to be a sort of common property of the school, it 
was somehow esteemed by those in Barkley’s set a special 
distinction to be admitted to his friendship. 

But the party of three young people have been left long 
enough walking by the edge of the Serpentine. Presently 
they saw a knot of people gathered ahead; the number 
increased as others ran up. 

“What’s up, I wonder?” Frank said. “Look out there 
on the ice, Alice. You see that hole; there is something 
moving — there’s a dog’s head, 1 declare. Poor brute! it 
has run out after a stick, I suppose, and the ice has given 
under it.” 

“Poor little thing!” Alice exclaimed pitifully, “can’t it 
get out? Do you think it will be drowned, Frank? Can 
nothing be done for it?” 

“The best thing you can do, Alice,” Fred replied, as 
Frank stood looking at the dog, who tried several times, 
but in vain, to scramble out, the ice each time breaking 
with its weight, “ will be to turn and walk away ; there is 
no use standing here harrowing your feelings by watching 
that poor little brute drown.” 

“Can nothing be done, Frank?” Alice again asked, pay- 
ing no heed to Fred’s suggestion. 

“That is just what I am thinking,” Frank replied. 
“You stop here, Alice, with Fred. I will go on and see 
what they are doing.” 

“Can’t I go with you, Frank?” 

“You had better stop here,” Frank replied; “the crowd 
is getting thick there, and they are a roughish lot. Besides, 
you will not be able to see over their heads, and can do no 
good; so just do as I bid you.” 

The girl remained obediently with her cousin Fred, 
while Frank went off at a run toward the group. 


20 CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S I1E lit 

“Frank orders you about just as if you were his fag,” 
Fred said, with a smile which had in it something of a 
sneer. 

“I doft’t mind,” the girl said stanchly, “it’s Frank’s 
way, and I like it; at any rate one always knows what 
Frank means, and he always means well.” 

“ That is as much as to say, Alice, that you don’t always 
understand what I mean, and that I don’t always mean 
well,” Fred Barkley said in a quiet tone, but with a little 
flush of anger in his usually somewhat pale cheeks. 

“No, I don’t know that I mean that,” Alice said care- 
lessly; “but I do not always understand what you mean, 
though I always understand what you say.” 

“I should have thought that was the same thing,” Fred 
replied. 

“Should you?” Alice rejoined. “Well I shouldn’t, 
that’s all.” 

As Frank Norris approached the group he began to 
unbutton his collar and waistcoat. 

“It will be a beastly cold swim,” he grumbled to himself, 
“but I canT see the poor little brute drowned, and drowned 
he certainly will be if no one goes in for him. It’£ no dis- 
tance to swim, and I should think one could wade to within 
twenty yards of him ; but it certainly will be horribly cold.” 
And he gave a shiver of anticipation as he looked at the 
smooth frozen surface. 

With some little difficulty Frank pushed his way through 
to the center of the group by the water’s side. A little 
girl, poorly dressed, was standing crying bitterly; a cripple 
boy in a box upon wheels was trying to pacify her, while 
another who had taken off his coat and waistcoat, and laid 
them in the lap of the cripple, was unlacing his boots. 

“Are you going in, young un?” Frank said, as he joined 
them. 

“Yes, sir; I am going in for Flossy. She belongs to 
this little girl, who is one of our neighbors,” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


21 

“Can you swim well?” Frank asked, “for the water will 
be bitterly cold.” 

“Yes,” the boy answered confidently, “I goes regularly 
for a swim above Vauxhall Bridge in the summer, and 
keeps on until the water gets too cold. I can do that fast 
enough. I suppose the ice will break right* enough,” and 
he looked up inquiringly at Frank. 

“Yes, it will break with your weight easily enough; you 
will have to raise yourself a little so as to break it before 
you. You will have to put some weight on, for it is nearly 
half an inch thick; I expect there is a thin place where 
the dog has fallen in — a spring underneath, most likely, 
so a mere skin has formed. 

“Look here, young un, I was going in if you hadn’t. 
I shall get my boots ready to kick off now, so don’t you be 
frightened if you get numbed with the cold, or a touch of 
cramp; just sing out and I will be with you in a minute.” 

The cripple looked with pleasure up into Frank’s face. 

“It is very good of you, sir, for you don’t know the dog 
as Evan does. Ah! I know your face, sir,” he broke off, 
“I saw you in the fight down by our place at Westminster, 
when Evan ran up and fetched some more of your chaps 
— and just in time they were too.” 

“Oh! was it your brother who brought that news?” 
Frank said quickly; “then I owe him one, and if I go in 
to fetch him out we shall be only quits.” 

Evan had by this time entered the water, breaking the 
ice before him as he went. 

“My eye, ain’t it cold!” he said, half-turning round, 
“seems to nip one’s legs up regular. All right, Flossy,” 
he shouted to the dog, as he continued his way out, in 
answer to a pitiful whine of the struggling animal. 

For the first few paces Evan’s progress was easy enough; 
but when he got so deep that he could no longer break the 
ice with his foot his difficulties began, and it was only by 


CAPTAIN BA Y LET'S HEIR. 


22 

flinging himself down upon it that he was able to break it. 
A few yards further on the water was up to his chin. He 
was now breaking the ice by trying to climb upon it. 
Frank was watching him closely, and noticed that he no 
longer proceeded about his work deliberately, but with a 
hurried and jerky action, as if he felt his strength failing 
him. Frank pulled oif his coat and waistcoat, and handed 
them to the cripple, kicked off his boots, and stood in 
readiness to plunge in. 

The crowd had at first cheered the lad as he made his 
way from the shore; some still uttered shouts of encour- 
agement, others saw that he was getting exhausted, and 
called to him to return. Suddenly the boy seemed to lose 
his power altogether, held on to the edge of the ice, and 
cast a despairing look toward the shore. Then gradually 
his head disappeared under the water; but Frank was 
already halfway toward him. A few strides had taken 
him through the shallow water, and he swam with vigor- 
ous strokes through the floating fragments to the end of 
the line of broken water; then he too disappeared for a 
moment. A dead silence reigned through the crowd; but 
when two heads appeared above the water together, a ring- 
ing cheer broke out. Carrying his senseless companion, 
Frank swam back to shore. 

“Take off his wet clothes,” he said, as he handed his 
burden to some of the men. “Wrap him up in my coat 
and his own, and then run with him up to the Humane 
Society’s house, they will bring him round in no time; it 
is cold, not drowning.” 

Then he looked again across the water. The little dog 
was swimming feebly now, its nose scarcely above the sur- 
face. It had given a plaintive cry of despair as it saw 
those who had approached so near turn back, for there 
were but some five yards between the spot where the boy’s 
strength had failed and the circle which it had broken in 
its efforts to climb out. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


23 


tt I can’t be colder than I am,” Frank said to himself, 
“so here goes.” 

Accordingly he again dashed into the water and swam to 
the end of the narrow passage; a few vigorous strokes broke 
the intervening barrier of ice. He seized the little dog, 
put it on the ice, and with a push sent it sliding toward 
the shore, and then turned and swam back again. It was 
only just where the dog had fallen in that the ice was too 
weak to bear its weight, and, after lying for two or three 
minutes utterly exhausted, it scrambled to its feet and 
made its way to the bank, where it was soon wrapped in the 
apron of its delighted mistress. 

Frank, on reaching the shore, was scarcely able to stand, 
so benumbed were his legs by the cold. His cousins had 
made their way through the crowd to the spot. 

“Oh, Frank,” Alice exclaimed, “what a mad thing for 
you to do. Oh! I am so pleased you did it — but oh, you 
do look cold! What will you do?” 

“I am all right, Alice,” Frank said, as cheerfully as his 
chattering teeth would allow him to speak. “You go 
home with Fred; I shall get a hot bath and have my 
clothes dried at the receiving-house, and shall be as right 
as a trivet in half an hour. There, good-by!” 

Frank walked stiffly at first, but was presently able to 
break into a run, which he kept up until he reached the 
establishment of the Royal Humane Society. His first 
question, as he entered, was for the boy. 

“He will do, sir,” the attendant answered, “we popped 
him at once into a hot bath we had ready, and he has' 
opened his eyes, and is able to speak ; we have just got him 
into bed between warm blankets, and now it’s your turn.” 

In another minute Frank was in the bath from which 
the boy had just been taken, for there was no time to pre- 
pare another. For the first minute or two he felt an 
intense pain as the blood flowed back into bis chilled 


24 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


limbs, then a delightful sensation of warmth and comfort 
stole over him; a glass of hot brandy and water completed 
his cure, and a few minutes later he felt that lie was fast 
going off to sleep in the warm blankets between which lie 
was laid. 

Before the crowd whom the incident on the Serpentine 
had gathered broke up, one or two of those present went 
among the rest and collected a subscription for the lad who 
had gone in after the dog. Nearly two pounds were col- 
lected in silver and coppers, and handed over to the cripple 
to give to his brother. Fred Barkley dropped in five shil- 
lings, and Alice Hardy the same sum. Then after walk- 
ing to the receiving-house, and hearing that Frank and the 
lad had both recovered from the effects of the cold, and 
would probably be all right after a few hours’ sleep, they 
returned home, Alice in a high state of excitement over 
the adventure which she had witnessed, Fred silent and 
gloomy. 

He accompanied Alice to Eaton Square, and was present 
when she related to her uncle the story of the lad going in 
to rescue the dog, and of Frank going in to rescue the boy, 
and of his afterward returning to set free the dog." Upon 
the way home he had appeared to Alice to take the matter 
exceedingly quietly, but he now, somewhat to her surprise, 
appeared almost as enthusiastic as herself, and spoke in 
terms of high admiration of Frank’s conduct. Captain 
Bayley, as was usually the case with him, took a view of 
the matter entirely opposed to that of the speakers. 

“Stuff and nonsense!” he said. “You call that a. gal- 
lant action? I call it a foolish boy’s trick. What right 
has Frank to risk getting rheumatic fever, and being laid 
up as a cripple for life, merely to save a dog?” 

“But he went in to save a boy, uncle,” Alice said indig- 
nantly. 

“ Pooh, pooh !” the old officer exclaimed, “ the boy would 


CAPTAIN BA TLE7 'S HEIR. 


INI! 

25 


never have gone in if lie hadn’t encouraged him. That 
makes the case all the worse. Frank not only risked 
catching rheumatism himself, but he risked the life of that 
boy by encouraging him to do such a foolish action. It 
was a hair-brained business altogether, sir; and I am glad 
you had the wisdom, Fred, to keep out of it. The idea of 
two lives being risked to save that of a wretched cur is too 
absurd; if you had offered the girl who owned it five shil- 
lings to buy another it would have been more sensible.” 

“I don’t believe you mean what you say a bit, Uncle 
Harry,” Alice exclaimed indignantly. “I believe if you 
had been there, and had heard that poor little dog’s cries 
as we did, you would have gone in yourself. I am sure I 
would if I had been a man.” 

“I always observe, my dear,” Captain Bayley said sarcas- 
tically, “that women would do wonderful things if they 
had only been born men. Nature appears to be always 
making mistakes by putting the dauntless and heroic spirits 
into female bodies, and vice versa.” 

“I don’t like you when you talk like that, Uncle Harry 
— that is, I shouldn’t like you if I thought you meant it; 
but you only talk so out of contradiction. If I had said I 
thought Frank was very foolish for having gone into the 
water, you would have taken the opposite side directly.” 

“You are an impudent puss, Miss Alice,” her uncle 
retorted, “and I shall have to tell Miss Lancaster that 
unless she can keep you in better order I shall have to send 
you to school. You appear to have been born without the 
bump of veneration.” 

“I would venerate you ever so much, Uncle Harry,” the 
girl replied, laughing, “if you would always be good and 
reasonable; but I cannot venerate you when you are con- 
trary and disagreeable, and say things you don’t mean.” 

As Fred Barkley walked home, he wondered again and 
again to himself whether Captain Bayley had meant what 


26 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


he said, and whether this act of Frank’s would raise him 
in his opinion or the contrary; but he flattered himself 
that, at any rate, no harm had been done, for his own 
advocacy of his cousin could not but have placed him in 
the most favorable light. 

Fred Barkley was shrewd, but his power of reading char- 
acter was, as yet, by no means perfect, and his uncle’s 
changing moods baffled the power of analysis. He would 
not have been pleased had’ he known that at that very 
moment the old officer was walking up and down his 
library, muttering to himself: “I would give a good deal if 
there were a glass window at that boy Fred’s heart, that I 
could see what it is really made of. His head is strong 
enough; nature has given him a fair share of brains, but, 
unless I am greatly mistaken, there is a very grievous 
deficiency in his allowance of heart. 

“I don’t believe the boy ever spoke spontaneously from 
the time he learned to talk, but that every word he says is 
weighed before it passes through his lips, and its effect 
calculated; whereas Frank never thinks at all, but just 
blurts out the words which come to hand. It is curious 
how much more Alice takes to him than to Fred} for he 
bullies her and orders her about as if she were one of his 
fags, while Fred is as courteous and polite to her as if she 
were a young countess. I suppose it is instinct, for chil- 
dren’s opinions about people are seldom far wrong. I 
thought when I brought Alice here that she would help 
me to settle the problem.” 

Frank and Evan Holl woke at about the same time, after 
sleeping for some hours; their clothes had been dried for 
them, and they at once began to dress. 

“How do you feel now, young un?” was Frank’s first 
inquiry as they sat up in their beds. 

“I dunno how I feels,” Evan replied. “I hardly knows 
where I am, or how I got here, though I do seem to 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


27 


remember something about this ’ere place too. Ob yes!” 
he exclaimed suddenly, “I was trying to fetch out poor 
little Flossy, and the ice would not break, and I got colder 
and colder, and then I don’t seem to remember any more 
except somehow that I was here with people standing round 
me, and I swallowed something hot and went off to sleep. 
Ah yes! you were the gentleman as said you would come 
in after me if I sang out.” 

“And I did come in,” Frank said smilingly, “and only 
just in time I was, for you did not sing out, but went right 
down without a word. It was lucky you did not get under 
the ice.” 

“And Flossy,” the boy said suddenly, “did she go down 
too?” 

“No,” Frank answered, “I went in again and got her 
out, after I had brought you back to shore.” 

“Well, you are a brick!” the boy said, “a regular down- 
right un, and no mistake. I wonder how Harry got back; 
it would be a job for him to wheel hisself all the way back 
to Westminster.” 

“ Oh, I expect he got some one to help him,” Frank said; 
“and the little girl would be able to help shove him along.” 

“Yes, she would,” Evan replied, “she can shove him by 
herself along a pavement, and I expect that he and she 
atween them would be able to get along. Lor! how them 
things of yours have shrunk, to be sure.” 

“They have, a bit,” Frank said, looking down at his 
trousers, which were halfway up to his knees; “but it 
don’t matter much, it’s getting dark now, and I can take 
a cab when I get out of the Park. Your clothes don’t 
seem to have suffered so much, they seem plenty large 
enough for you now.” 

“Yes,” Evan said, with a satisfied air, “and a good job 
too; mother always will have my clothes so big, cos of my 
growing. She always seems to think one will grow sudden 
into a man afore one’s things wear out,” 


28 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


Frank and the lad walked together as far as Albert Gate; 
here they separated, Frank taking a cab home, while Evan, 
whistling a popular air in a high key, took his way to 
Westminster. On arriving home he was greeted with 
enthusiasm by Harry, but Mrs. Holl was not inclined to 
view his adventure favorably. 

“It’s all very well to care for dogs, Evan, and I ain’t 
a-saying as Carrie Hill’s dog ain’t a nice little critter; but 
when ,4t comes to getting into the freezing water arter it, 
I don’t hold to it no way. Then you might have gone 
and got drowned — and you would have got drowned too, 
Harry tells me, if that young gent hadn’t been and gone 
after you; and then this blessed minute I should have been 
breaking my heart about you, and you down underneath 
the ice in the bottom of the Serpentine. There ain’t no 
reason in it, my boy. Harry here thinks different about 
it, and will have it that I ought to be proud of yer; but 
he ain’t a mother, and so can’t understand a mother’s feel- 
ings — and your clothes pretty nigh spoiled too, I’ll be 
bound.” 

“Well, mother, if they are,” Harry said cheerfully, 
“Evan can buy some more. Here, Evan; here are thirty- 
eight shillings and ninepeuce halfpenny, and it’s all your 
own.” 

“Crikey!” Evan gasped, looking in astonishment at the 
pile of money in Harry’s lap. “Why, where did all that 
’ere money come from?” 

“That was collected in the crowd, Evan, after you were 
carried away, and they gave it to me to give to you. I did 
not quite like your taking money for doing such a thing, 
but of course as it was given for you I had nothing to say 
to it.” 

Evan burst into a wild dance expressive of delight. - He 
had none of his brother’s scruples in respect to the money. 

“My eye!” he exclaimed at last, “thirty-eight bob and 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


29 


some coppers to do just as I likes with. I am a rich man, 
I am; I shall have to get some ’igh collars and come the 
swell. I suppose it won’t run to a carriage and pair, 
mother, or to a welvet gownd for you, that would he splen- 
datious. Just fancy, mother, a gownd all over welvet, and 
just the same color as the sodgers’ coats. My eye! won’t 
that be grand?” 

“And a nice sight I should look in it,” Mrs. Holl said, 
laughing at the thought of herself in scarlet robes. “ When 
dad comes home we will talk over with him what’s the 
best way of laying out this money. It’s yours to do as you 
likes with, but I ain’t a-going to have it fooled away, so 
don’t you make any mistake about that.” 


30 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


CHAPTER III. 

A CRIPPLE BOY. 

John - Hole returned from work a few minutes after 
Evan came in. John Holl was a dustman. A short, 
broadly-built man, with his shoulders bowed somewhat 
from carrying heavy baskets up area steps. His looks were 
homely, and his attire far from clean; but John was a good 
husband and father, and the great proportion of the many 
twopences he daily received as douceurs for discharging his 
duties were brought home to his wife, as was all the weekly 
money, instead of being exchanged for liquor at the public- 
house. 

Sarah Holl added to the family income by going out 
charring. She was a big woman, with a rough'voice, and 
slipshod in walk; her hands were red and hard from much 
scrubbing and polishing, and she was considered generally 
by the servants in the establishments at which she worked 
to be a low person. But Sarah’s heart was in the right 
place; her children loved her, and her husband regarded 
her as a treasure. 

It was not until John Holl had changed his dirt-stained 
clothes, and had freshened himself up with a copious wash, 
had put on a pair of list -slippers of Sarah’s manufacture 
in place of his heavy boots, and had seated himself by the 
fire with his long pipe alight, while Sarah bustled about 
getting the tea, that he was informed of the important 
events which had taken place; for John, like many more 
distinguished men, had his idiosyncrasies, and one of these 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


31 


was that he hated to be, as he called it, “hustled,” before 
he had tidied up. John was not quick of comprehension, 
and could not give due weight to what was said to him 
while engaged in the important work of changing; there- 
fore all pieces of family news were reserved until he had 
taken his seat and his pipe was fully alight. Then Mrs. 
Holl began : 

“What do you think, John, Evan ’as been a-doing 
to-day?” 

John gave a grunt, to signify that he would prefer hear 
ing the facts to wasting his brain-power in random guesses 

“Why, he has been in the Serpentine, and was nigh 
drowned, and had to be taken to the ’Mane Society and 
put into a hot bat]i, and all his clothes shrunk that much 
as you never seed.” 

“I thought the ice weren’t strong enough to bear,” John 
said, taking his pipe from his mouth; “one of my mates 
tells me as he heard a chap going along with skates say as 
it weren’t strong enough on the Serpentine to hold a cat.” 

“No more it ain’t, John; but Carrie Hill’s little dog 
run on and fell through, and nothing would do but that 
Evan must go out and risk his life to fetch it out. And 
a nice business he made of it; when he got close out to the 
dog down he went hisself, and would have been drowned 
as sure as fate if a young gent as was a-standing there 
hadn’t swam out and brought him in. And I think you 
. ought to speak to him, John, for such venturesome ways; 
he don’t mind my speaking no more than the wind 
a-blowing.” 

John Holl smoked his pipe in silence for some time, 
looking solemnly into the fire; the number of facts and 
ideas presented suddenly to him were too great to be 
instantly taken in and grappled with. 

“And how do you feel now, Evan?” he said at last; 
“cold right through the bones?” 


32 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


“No, father; I am as warm as need he; and what do 
you think? I have got thirty-eight bob and some coppers 
which they ’scribed for me.” 

“Did they, now?” John Holl said. Then after taking 
in this new fact, and turning it over in different lights, he 
said to his wife, “Well, Sarah, it seems to me that if the 
people who saw our Evan go into the water subscribed 
well-nigh upon two pounds for the boy, they must have 
thought that what he did warn’t a thing for him to be 
jawed for, but a brave, good-hearted sort of action ; and I 
ain’t no manner of doubt, Sarah, that that’s just what you 
think it yerself, only you are a bit scared over the thought 
that he migh J have been drowned, which is natural and 
woman-like. It seems to me as Evan has done a wery 
honorable kind o’ action. I know as I should have liked 
to have done it myself, though I holds that a man can’t 
have too much of hot water and plenty of soap in it, cold 
water alius giving me the shivers, and being no good for 
getting out dirt — not w,here it’s ground in pretty thick. 
I suppose it’s cos of this that I didn’t larn to swim. Evan, 
my boy, your fathei feels proud of yer, and so does your 
mother — as proud as a peacock— though she don’t think 
it’s right to say so.” 

Whereupon Mrs. Holl, finding to her great inward satis- 
faction that the paternal sanction and approval had been 
given to Evan’s adventure, felt no longer constrained to 
keep up a semblance of disapproval, but embraced him 
with great heartiness, and then wiped her eyes with the 
corner of her apron. Then came the great point of the 
disposal of Evan s fortune. His first proposal was to hand 
it over to his father as a contribution toward the general 
expenses, but this John Holl peremptorily refused. 

“It’s your money, boy, to do as you like with; it’s 
earned in a honorable way, and a way to be proud of. You 
are to do with it just what you likes; it were best not to 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY 'S HEIR 83 

spend it foolish, but if you are disposed to spend it foolish, 
you do so.” 

“There are such lots of things I should like to buy,” 
Evan said. “I should like to buy mother a new Sunday 
bonnet, and I should like to get you a pound of bacca; and 
Winnie wants a new pair of boots and stockings, and there’s 
lots of things I should like to get for Harry, and some 
warm gloves for Sue, and — and mo end of things.” 

“Two pounds,” John Holl said, “is a nice little lump of 
money, Evan; but when you gets as old as I am you will 
know as two pounds don’t go wery far. My advice to you 
is this, whatever you get yer sure awhile afterward to 
want something else, and to wish as you had bought that 
instead; that’s human nature, and it’s the same with men, 
women, and boys — at least that’s my ’sperience, and 
mother will tell you the same. My advice is, give that 
money to mother to keep for you, say for a month. Well 
then, every day you can settle fresh what you mean to 
buy, and that will be most as good as buying it; perhaps 
toward the end of the month you will have settled yer 
mind on to something which really seems to you better 
than all the others; that’s my advice.” 

“And capital good advice too, father,” Harry said. 

And thus the approval of the two authorities of the 
family having been obtained, the matter was considered as 
settled. 

“And who was the young gent as went in and fetched 
you out, Evan?” John Holl asked, when the important 
business of tea was concluded and he again settled himself 
to his pipe. “He must have been a good sort; I should 
like to shake hands with that chap.” 

“He told me as his name were Frank Norris,” Evan 
replied; “he is one of the scholars we see going along to 
Vincent Square; I knew him again directly. He was one 
of those chaps as fought so well the day they got attacked 


34 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY'S HEIR . 


going back to the school. A fine-looking chap he is too, 
with a pleasant face, and a nice sort of way about him. 
.No nonsense, you know; he talked just pleasant and nice, 
as Harry might talk to me, just as if he was a sort of pal, 
and not a swell no-how.” 

“I should like to shake hands with him,” John Holl 
repeated; “he saved your life, that’s sure enough” — for by 
this time Harry had related the full details of the affair. 
“I think, Sarah, as it would be only right and proper, come 
Sunday, for you and I to go round to that young fellow’s 
house and tell him how we feels about it. If it had been 
a chap of our own station in life I suppose there ain’t 
nothing we wouldn’t do for him, if we saw bur way to it; 
and though I don’t see as it’s likely as we can do nothing 
for this young fellow, the least as we can do is to go and 
tell him what we thinks about it'. Did he tell you where 
he lived, Evan?” 

“No, father. He didn’t say where he lived; but he 
writ down in a pocket-book my name and where we lived, 
and said as how he would look in one of these days and see 
that I was none the worse for my ducking.” 4 

“Well, I hopes as how he will,” John said, “but if he 
don’t come soon, we must find him out. I expect his 
name or his father’s name would be down in a ’Rectory, 
and the name ain’t so common a one as there would be 
likely to be a great many on them living about here; but 
if there was fifty I would call on them all till I found the 
right one. I shan’t be easy in my mind, not till I have 
shaken that young chap’s hand and told him what I thinks 
on it. And I am sure your mother feels the same as I do. 
And now, Harry, take out that fiddle of yours and let’s 
have a tune; my pipe alius seems to draw better and 
sweeter while you are playing.” 

One of the children — there were eight in all in the room 
> — fetched Harry’s fiddle from the wall. It was a cheap, 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


85 


common instrument, but even far better judges of mnsiG 
than the Holls would have been able to discern, in spite of 
its cracked and harsh tone, that the lad who was playing 
it had a genius for music. It is true that the airs which 
he was playing, those which the street boys of the day 
whistled as they walked by, were not of a nature to display 
his powers. Harry could play other and very different 
kinds of music; for whenever Evan earned a sixpence by 
holding a horse, or doing any other odd job, a penny or 
twopence were sure to go in the purchase of a sheet of 
music for Harry at the cheap bookstalls. Harry had 
learned the notes from a second-hand book of instructions 
which John Holl had bought for him one Saturday night, 
when the weather had been particularly hot, and people in 
their desire to get their dust-bins emptied were more liberal 
than usual. But of an evening, when John was at home, 
Harry always played popular airs, as his father and family 
were unable to appreciate the deeper and better music. 
This he reserved for the time when the children were at 
school, and mother was either charring or was at the wash- 
tub. 

Sarah used to wonder silently at the sounds which seemed 
to her to have no particular air, such as she could beat 
time to with her foot as she worked ; but in her heart she 
appreciated them; they made her feel as if she was in 
church, and sometimes she would draw her apron across 
her eyes, wondering all the time what there was in the 
tones of the fiddle which should make her cry. 

Three or four days later, when Harry,, as usual, was 
playing on his violin, and Mrs. Holl was washing, there 
was a knock at the door. 

“ Drat it !” Mrs. Holl muttered, “ who’s a-coming bother- 
ing now, just when I am busy?” 

“ If no one is to come except when you are not busy,” 
Harry laughed, as Mrs. Holl moved toward the door, wip- 


36 CAPTAIN BA TLET’S HEIR. 

ing the lather from her arms and hands, “we shan’t have 
many visitors, for as far as I can see you are always busy. 

“ Ah !” he exclaimed, as Mrs. Holl opened the door, and 
he saw who was standing without, “it’s the gentleman who 
got Evan out of the water.” 

“Mrs. Holl?” Frank asked interrogatively, and then, 
catching sight of Harry, he at once walked across to him 
and shook him by the hand. 

“ I hope I am not intruding, Mrs. Holl, but I promised 
your son to look in and see how he was; and as I had to 
come down to the school to-day for a book I wanted for 
my holiday task, I thought it would be a good opportunity 
to fulfill my promise.” 

“It is no intrusion, sir, and I am sure I am heartily glad 
to see yer, and thank ye for coming,” Mrs. Holl said, as 
she dusted an already spotless chair and placed it for her 
visitor. “My John does nothing every evening but talk 
of how he wishes he could see you, to tell you how beholden 
lie and me feels to you for having brought our Evan to 
land just as he was being drowned.” 

“No thanks are required indeed, Mrs. Holl,” Frank said 
cheerfully, “it was a sort of partnership affair. You see I 
was going in after the dog, only Evan, who was a sort of 
friend of the family, had first claim ; so we agreed that he 
should try first and do all the hard work of breaking the 
ice, and then, if the cold was too much for him, I was to 
go out and fetch him in and finish the job myself. So you 
see it was a mutual arrangement, and no particular thanks 
due to any one. But your son is a plucky young fellow, 
Mrs. Holl, and he behaved most gallantly. I find, too, 
from what your son here tells me, that 1 owe him one for 
having fetched help up from the school when we were get- 
ting the worst of it just opposite your house here. AY ell, 
in the first place, how is he? None the worse, I hope, for 
the cold.” 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 3 ? 

“Not at all, sir. He is out to-day with a friend of ours 
as ’as got a barrow, and lives in the next street, but who 
is that hoarse with the cold that he can’t speak out of a 
whisper; so he offered Evan sixpence to go along with him 
to do the shouting, and a nice shouting he will make; his 
voice goes through and through my head when he is only 
a-talking with his brothers and sisters here, and if anything 
can bring them to the windows it will be his voice. He 
offered to come round here with the barrow afore they 
started off this morning, but says I, No, Evan; I have a 
good name in the street, I hope, and don’t wish to be 
dighted as a nuisance to the neighborhood, nor to have my 
neighbors accusing me of a-being the cause of fits in their 
children.” 

“ I don’t suppose that it would be as bad as that, Mrs. 
Holl,” Frank said, laughing. “However, if his voice is 
as loud and clear as that, it is evident that he is not much 
the worse for his cold bath. I came round partly to see 
him, partly to know if I could do anything for him; he 
seems a sharp lad, and I am sure he is as honest as he is 
plucky. As a beginning, my uncle says he could come 
into the house as a sort of errand-boy, and to help the 
footman, until he can hear of some better position for him 
among his friends.” 

“I am sure you are very good, sir,” Mrs. Holl said grate- 
fully; “I will mention it to his father, and he But I 

doubt whether Evan’s steady enough for, a place yet, he is 
alius getting into mischief; there never was such a boy for 
scrapes; if all my eight were like him I should go clean 
mad afore the week was out. When he is in the house, as 
long as he is talking or singing I can go on with my work, 
but the moment that he is quiet I have to drop what I am 
a-doing on and look arter him, for he is sure to be up to 
some mischief or other.” 

“No, no, mother,” Harry put in, laughing; “you are 


38 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


giving Evan a worse character than he deserves. He is up 
to fun, as is only natural with one who has got the free 
use of his limbs, but he never does any real harm.” 

“No, I don’t say that he does real harm, ’Arry,” Mrs. 
Holl replied, “but I do say as at present he is too full of 
boyish tricks to be of any good in a place, and we should 
be a-having him back here a week arter he went, and that 
would be a nice show of gratitude to this gentleman for his 
kindness.” 

“I don’t suppose he is as bad as you make out, Mrs. 
Holl; and no doubt he would tame down after a time, 
just as other boys do. Perhaps a place in a warehouse 
would be more suitable for him at first. 

“And it was yon who were playing as I came in,” he 
went on, noticing the violin; “I was wondering who was 
playing so well. How jolly it must be to play! I wish I 
•could, but I should never have patience to learn. Who 
taught you?” 

“I picked it up myself, sir,” Harry replied, “from a 
book father bought me. You see I have plenty of time on 
my hands; I don’t get out much, except just along the 
street, for I can’t very well get across crossings by myself. 
The wheels go well enough on a level, but I cannot push 
them up a curb-stone. But what with reading and fid- 
dling the days pass quickly enough, especially when mother 
is at home; she is out two or three days a week, and then 
the time seems rather long.” 

“I should think so,” Frank said; “I should go mad if I 
were laid up entirely. I am awfully sorry for you. If you 
are fond of books I shall be glad to let you have some; I 
have got no end of them, and there they stand on my shelf 
unopened from year’s end to year’s end.. What sort of 
books do you like best? Sea stories, or Indians, or what?” 

“I should like any story-books, sir,” Harry replied, his 
eyes brightening up with pleasure; “I have read a few 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


89 


which father has picked up for me at the bookstalls, and 
I have gone through and through them until I could 
almost say them by heart. And then tales of travel and 
history — oh, I love history ! to read what people did hun- 
dreds of years ago, and how nations grew up step by step, 
just like children, it is splendid!” 

“I am afraid,” Frank said, with a laugh, “ that I don’t 
care so much for history as you do. Names are hard 
enough to remember, but dates are awful; I would rather 
do the toughest bit of construing than have a page of 
Greek history to get up. Well, I will certainly look you 
up some books on history and some travels, and will send 
you some of Marryat’s stories. I suppose you do not care 
for school books; I have got a barrow-load that I shall 
never want again.” 

“ Oh yes, sir,” Harry said eagerly, “I think I should like 
those best of all. Have you a Virgil, sir? I do like Virgil, 
and all that story about the siege of Troy. I only had it 
for a fortnight. Father bought it for me, and then one of 
the little ones managed somehow to take it out and lose it; 
she ran out with it for a bit of fun, and we suppose sat 
down on a doorstep and forgot it.” 

“But, bless me,” Frank exclaimed, “you don’t mean to 
say that you read Virgil in Latin! You are a rum fellow. 
How on earth did you learn it?” 

“I have taught myself, -sir,” Harry said. “Father is 
awfully good, and often picks up books for me at old book- 
stalls. Of course sometimes he gets things I can’t make 
out. But he got twelve once for a shilling, and there was 
a Latin grammar and dictionary among them; and when 
I had learned the grammar, it was very easy with the 
dictionary to make out the sense of some of the Latin 
books. But of course I often come across things that I 
don’t understand. I think sometimes if someone would 
explain them to me once or twice, so that I could really 


40 


CAPTAIN BA T LEY'S HEIR. 


understand how the rules in the grammar are applied, I 
could get on faster.” 

“ Well, you are a rum fellow!” Frank exclaimed again. 
“ I wish I liked learning as you do, for though I am in the 
sixth at Westminster, I own that I look upon the classics 
as a nuisance. Well, now, look here; I have got an hour 
at present with nothing special to do, so if you like we will 
have a go at it together. What have you got here?” and 
he walked across to a shelf on which were a number of 
books. “Oh! here is a Caesar; suppose we take that; it’s 
easy enough generally, but there are some stiffish bits now 
and then. Let’s start off from the beginning, and perhaps 
I may be able to make things clear for you a bit.” 

In spite of Mrs. Holl’s protestations that Harry ought 
not to trouble the gentleman, the two lads were soon deep 
in their Caesar. Frank found, to his surprise, that the 
cripple boy had a wonderful knack of grasping the sense 
of passages, but that never having been regularly taught 
to construe, he was unable to apply the rules of grammar 
which he had learned. Frank taught him hbw to do this, 
how to take a sentence to pieces, how to parse it word by 
word, and to see how each word depended upon the others, 
so that even if absolutely in ignorance of the meaning of 
any one word in a sentence, he could nevertheless parse 
them unerringly in the order in which they would be ren- 
dered in English — could determine the value of each, .and 
their bearing upon one another. 

This was quite a revelation to Harry; his face flushed 
with eagerness and excitement, and so interested were both 
lads in their work, that the hour was far exceeded before 
the lesson came to an end by Mrs. Holl interfering bodily 
in the matter by carrying off the dictionary, and declaring 
that it was a shame that Harry should give so much 
trouble. 

“It is no trouble at all, Mrs. Holl,” Frank said, laugh- 


/■ 

CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIB. 




PROP^ 


41 




ing. “You see one is accustomed a little t^ v teaching, as 
one often gives one’s fag, or any other little cha^who asks, 
a construe, or explains his lesson to him. But I can tell 
you that there are precious few of them who take it all 
as quickly as your son does. Now that I have made my- 
self at home, I will come in sometimes when school begins 
again, if you will let me, for half an hour and read with 
Harry. But I don’t think he will want any help long. 
Still, it may help to show him the regular way of getting 
at things. And now I must hurry off. You will ask 
Evan to think over what I have said. Here is my address. 
I wrote it down in case I should find no one in. If he 
makes up his mind about it before I come again, he had 
better call on me there; the best time would be between 
nine and eleven in the morning; I have always finished 
breakfast by nine, and I have put off my holiday task so 
long, that I must stick at it regularly two hours a day till 
school begins again, so he will be pretty sure to find me 
between nine and eleven. Will you tell your husband not 
to worry himself about seeing me? I don’t want to be 
thanked, for it was, as I told you, a sort of partnership 
business between your boy and me.” 

“Now I call that a downright nice sort of young chap,” 
Mrs. Holl said, as their visitor departed, “good-hearted 
and good-natured, without no sort of nonsense. He just 
sits himself down and makes himself at home as if he was 
one of the family, and I was able to go on with my wash- 
ing just as if he hadn’t been here.” 

For a time Harry did not answer. 

“So, that’s a gentleman,” he said at last, in a low voice, 
as if thinking aloud; “I have never spoken to a gentleman 
before.” 

“Well, lad,” Sarah Holl said, “there ain’t much differ- 
ence between the gentry and other sorts. I don’t see very 
much of them myself in the houses I goes to, but I hears 



42 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR . 


plenty about them from the servants’ talk; and, judging 
from that, a great many of them ’as just as nasty and 
unpleasant ways as other people.” 

“I suppose,” Harry said thoughtfully, “there can’t be 
much difference in real nature between them and us; there 
must, of course, be good and bad among them ; but there 
is more difference in their way of talking than I expected.” 

“Well, of course, Harry; they have had education, that 
accounts for it; just the same as you, who have educated 
yourself wonderful, talks different to John and me and the 
rest of us.” 

“Yes,” Harry said; “but I am not talking about mis- 
takes in grammar; it’s the tone of voice, and the Way of 
speaking that’s so different. Now why should that be, 
mother?” 

“I suppose a good deal of it,” Mrs. Holl answered, “is 
because they are brought up in nusseries, and they can’t 
run about the house, or holloa or shout to each other in 
the streets. D’ye see they are taught to speak quiet, and 
they hear their fathers and mothers, and people round 
them, speaking quiet. You don’t know, Harry, how still 
it is in some of, them big houses,. you seem half afraid to 
speak above a whisper.” 

“ Yes, but I don’t think he spoke lower than I do, 
mother, or than the rest of us. Oh mother!” he went on, 
after awhile, “isn’t he good? Just to think of his spend- 
ing an hour and a half sitting here, showing me how to 
construe. Why, I see the whole thing in a different way 
now; he has made clear all sorts of things that I could not 
understand; and he said he would come again too, and I 
am quite sure that when he says a thing he means to do it. 
I don’t believe he could tell a lie if he tried. And is he 
not good-looking too?” 

“He is a pleasant-looking young chap,” Mrs. Holl 
replied, “but I should not call him anything out of the 


CAPTAIN BAT LET 1 8 HEIR. 


43 


way. Now I should call you a better-looking chap than 
he is, Harry.” 

“Oh mother, what an idea!” Harry exclaimed, quite 
shocked at what seemed to him a most disrespectful com- 
parison to his hero. 

“It ain’t no idea at all,” Mrs. Holl rejoined stoutly; 
“any one with eyes in his head could see that if you was 
dressed the same as he is you would be a sight the best- 
looking chap of the two.” 

“Ah mother!” Harry said, laughing, “you remind me 
of an old saying I saw in a book the other day, ‘A mother’s 
geese are all swans.’ ” 

“I am sure,” Mrs. Holl said, in an aggrieved voice, “you 
ain’t no goose, Harry, and if any one else said so I should 
give them a bit of my mind sharp enough.” 

Harry did not attempt to argue with her, but with a 
little laugh turned to his books again, and was soon deep 
in the mysteries of Caesar. 

The next day a carrier’s cart stopped before Mrs. Holl’s 
house, to the great amazement of the neighborhood — for 
such an occurrence had not been known in the memory of 
the oldest inhabitant in the street, and quite a crowd of 
children collected to witness the delivery of a square heavy 
box of considerable weight at the door. 

Harry was almost beside himself with delight as he took 
out the treasures it contained; and as fully half were story- 
books, his delight was shared by the rest of the young 
Holls. It was evening when the cart arrived, and John 
was just enjoying his first pipe, and he once more uttered 
the sentiment he had expressed so often during the last 
four days, “ I should like to shake that young chap by the 
hand.” 


44 


CAPTAIN BAILEY'S HEIR . 


CHAPTER IV. 

AN ADOPTED CHILD. 

A few days after school had commenced Frank Norris 
called in again at the Holls’. It was a bright day, and 
Harry had gone out in his box, and Mrs. Holl was alone. 

“Harry will be sorry he is out, sir,” was her first greet- 
ing to Frank ; “ he has been looking forward to your com- 
ing again. You don’t know, sir, how much good you have 
done him. The boy has generally wonderful good spirits, 
considering his condition; still, though he don’t say 
naught, I can see sometimes that he isn’t never quite happy 
except when he is working away with his books or playing 
on that fiddle of his. 

“Evan has been and spent all the money as was given 
him that day at the Serpentine in buying a new fiddle for 
him. I don’t see much in the thing myself, and it seems 
to me they must have cheated Evan altogether, for it ain’t 
a new un, but an old, brown, dirty -looking thing, as looks 
as if it had been made nigh fifty years; and they goes and 
charges him thirty-eight shillings for it, and pretended to 
make a favor of it, while John only paid seven and six- 
pence for the one he had before, which was a beautiful new 
shiny one. 

“ However, Harry seems delighted with it, and say’s it’s 
beautiful soft, and mellow. But what he means I don’t 
know, though I do allow it ain’t so squeaky as the other; 
and sometimes when Harry is playing soft on it, it does 
sound beautiful. Still, thirty-eight shillings is a big price 
for an old thing like that.” 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY 'S HEIR. 


45 


“Old fiddles are always worth more than new ones, Mrs. 
Holl. Do you know there are some fiddles two or three 
hundred years old which could not be bought for less than 
three or four hundred pounds?” 

“My gracious!” Mrs. Holl exclaimed, “three or four 
hundred pounds for such a thing as a fiddle. I calls it 
downright wicked.” 

“He is a wonderful boy that son of yours, Mrs. Holl,” 
Frank said, changing the subject; “a regular genius I 
should call him. What a pity it is that he is a cripple!” 

“Ay, that it is,” Mrs. Holl agreed, “and he is a wonder- 
ful chap, is Harry. But he ain’t no son of mine, Mr. 
Norris, though he don’t know it himself, and I shouldn’t 
like him to be told.” 

“Then what relation is he, Mrs. Holl, if it is not an 
impertinent question?” 

“He ain’t no sort of relation at all, sir,” the woman 
answered. 

“Then how came yon to bring him up, Mrs. Holl?” 
Frank asked in surprise. 

“Well, sir, it was a very simple matter. But if so be as 
you care to hear it, I will tell you just how it happened.” 
And, leaning against the mantelpiece, with the red light of 
the fire thrown up* into her face, Mrs. Holl went on very 
slowly, and speaking as though she almost saw what she 
was relating. 

“Well, sir, it were an evening in April — a cold bitter 
day. I was sitting here between light and dark, drinking 
my tea with John, who was just come home from work— 
John is my husband, you see, sir— when we heard a noise 
outside in the street. We went out to see what was the 
matter, and we found a poor young creature, with a baby 
in her arms, had fallen down in a faint like. 

“She was a pretty young thing, sir; and though her 
dress was poor and torn, she looked as if she had not been 


46 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S HEIR. 


always so. Some one says, ‘Take them to the workhouse.’ 
‘No!’ says I — for my heart yearned toward the poor young 
thing — ‘bring her in here; mayn’t we, John?’ says I. 
Well, sir, John did not say nothing, but he took the baby 
out of her arms and gave it to me, and then he upped and 
took the poor young creature — she were no great weight, 
-sir— and carried her into the house, and laid her on the 
bed, as it might be by the window there. 

“Well, sir, that bed she never left; she came round a 
little, and lived some days, but her mind were never rightly 
itself again. She would lay there, with her baby beside 
her, and sing songs to herself; I don’t know what about, 
for it were some foreign language. She were very gentle 
and quiet like, but I don’t think she ever knew where she 
was, or anything about it. She were very fond of baby, 
and would take it in her arms, and hush it, and talk to it. 
She faded and faded away, and the doctor said nothing 
could be done for her; it made my heart ache, sir, and if 
you will believe me, I would go upstairs and cry by the 
hour. 

“ The thought of the little baby troubled me too. I had 
lost my first little one, sir, and I could not a-bear the 
thought of the little thing going to the workhouse. So 
one day I says to John, ‘John, when that poor mother 
dies, for God’s sake don’t ’ee send the little baby to the 
workhouse; He has taken away our own little one, and 
maybe He has sent this one for us to love in his place. 
Let us take him as our own.’ John, he did not say 
nothing, but he up and gived me a great kiss, and said, 
‘Sairey, you’re a good woman!’ which of course, sir,” Mrs. 
Holl put in apologetically, “is neither here nor there, for 
any mother would have done the same; but it’s John’s way 
when he’s pleased. That very same night the baby’s 
mother died.” 

Standing with her rough honest face lit up by the 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


47 


bright fire-glow she related it, simply, and as a matter of 
course, all unconscious of the good part she had taken in 
it, assuming no credit to herself, or seeing that she 
deserved any. 

When she had finished there was a little silence. Frank 
passed his hand furtively across his eyes, and then shook 
Mrs. Holl warmly by the hand, saying, “Your husband 
was right, Mrs. Holl, you are a good woman.” 

Mrs. Holl looked completely amazed, and stammered 
out, “Lor’ bless you, sir! there wasn’t anything out of the 
way in what I did, and there’s scores and scores would do 
the like. Having just lost my own little one, my heart 
went out to the poor little thing, and it seemed sent 
natural like, to fill up the place of the little, angel who was 
gone from us. Bless your heart, sir, there weren’t nothing 
out of the way in that, nothing at all, and we have never 
had cause to regret it. The boy’s a good boy, and a clever 
boy, and he is a comfort and a help to us; a better boy 
never lived. But we have always grieved sorely over the 
accident.” 

“Then he was not originally lame, Mrs. Holl?” Frank 
asked. 

“Dear me! no, sir, not till he were six years old. It 
happened this way. I was laid up at the time — I was just 
confined of Mary, she is my eldest girl— and somehow 
Harry he went out in the street playing. I don’t rightly 
know how it happened; but never shall I forget when they 
brought him in, and said that a cart had run over him. 
John, he was in — which was lucky, for I think I lost my 
head like, and went clean out of my mind for a bit, for I 
loved him just like my own. They did not think he would 
have lived at first, for the cart had gone over the lower 
part of his body and broke one of his thigh-bones, and the 
other leg up high. It was a light cart I have heard tell, 
or it must have killed him. 


48 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


“He were in bed for months, and, if you will believe 
me, if ever there was a patient little angel on earth, it was 
surely Harry. He never complained, and his chief trouble 
was for my sake. At last he got well ; but the doctors said 
he would never walk again, for they thought there w T as 
some damage done to his spine; and sure enough he never 
has walked. He is always cheerful, and keeps up wonder- 
ful, considering. 

“He has always been given to reading. John made a 
shift to teach him his letters, and then the children of the 
neighbors, they lent him their schoolbooks, and taught 
him what they knew, and in a short time, bless you, sir, 
he knew more than them all! He would sit and read for 
hours together. He is wonderful clever, Harry is.” 

“Well, Mrs. Holl,” Frank said, rising, “I am very much 
obliged to you for your story; but I must be going now, 
or else I shall be late for school. Tell Harry I am sorry I 
missed him, and will look in again soon. Have you 
thought anything further of what I said about Evan?” 

“Yes, sir, and thank you most kindly; but father thinks 
he had better wait another year or so, till he gets a bit 
older and steadier. As for them books as you was kind 
enough to send Harry, the boy must thank you hisself; 
except when he is playing on his fiddle he is always read- 
ing at them, and it is as much as I can do to get him out- 
side the doors. He was never very fond of it, for he 
thinks people look at him; but since those books has come 
I have regular to take them away from him, put his cap 
on his head, and push him outside the door. He will be 
in a taking that he has missed you to-day.” 

“Well, good-by, Mrs. Holl, I haven’t a moment to 
lose,” and Frank, putting on his hat, made otf at a sharp 
run to school, only arriving just in time to save prayers. 

Frank Norris, although a sixth town boy, was not head 
of Richards’, as Johnstone had been longer in that form, 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY *8 HEIR. 


49 


and was consequently senior to him. Johnstone was, how- 
ever, small and slightly built, and cared little for rowing, 
cricket, or football. He had gained his place in the sixth 
by sheer hard work rather than by talent. He was fussy 
and irritable, with a strong sense of the importance of his 
position as a sixth town hoy and head of Richards’. 
Between him and Frank there was no cordiality, for it 
irritated him that the latter was upon all occasions appealed 
to, and his advice asked in everything relating to games, 
and all matters of dispute referred to him. Frank, on the 
other hand, although he at all times gave way to Johnstone 
in house matters, was constantly annoyed by his continual 
self-assertion and his irritation at trifles. They were the 
only two sixth town boys at Richards’, but there were 
three upper “shells,” Harris, Travers, and James, and these 
ranked almost with the sixth, for the great demarcation of 
the school was between the upper and under “shells,” the 
former having the right to fag. 

Frank and Johnstone had each a small room of their 
own; the three upper “shells ” had a room together, but 
they used Frank’s study almost as much as their own; one 
or other would generally come in to work with him in the 
evening, and it was here that councils were held as to 
house matters or knotty points connected with field or 
water. 

“I wish Trafalgar Square wasn’t out of bounds,” Harris 
said one evening. 

They had finished the work for the next day, and had 
gathered for a chat in Frank’s room before turning into 
bed. Frank was sitting in a rickety armchair by the fire, 
Harris on the table, and the other two on the bed. 

“Why do you wish so, Harris?” Frank said. 

“Why, I should like to go up to see those rows they 
have pretty nearly every day. Thompson, the home 
boarder, told me he saw a regular fight there yesterday 
evening between the police and the Chartists.” 


50 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


“Well, it’s no use wishing, because bounds begin at the 
gate in Dean’s yard. I never could understand myself 
why we should be allowed to go the other way, down the 
slums, as far as we please, where there is every chance of 
getting into a row, while we are not allowed to walk quietly 
up Parliament Street; then we may go along the other 
way, by the new Houses of Parliament, to Westminster 
Bridge, and across the bridge to baths; but we may not go 
out from Dean’s yard and walk across in front of the 
abbey to the bridge. I expect when the rules were made 
there were no houses built beyond us, and there were fields 
extending back from the river, while the other way led up 
to the court. But I should certainly like to go up and see 
one of those Chartist riots. However, I don’t think it can 
be done; it would be setting- a bad example to the young 
uns, and the chances are ten to one we should run against 
one of the masters.” 

“Hardly likely, I should think,” Travers said; “it 
would be shacking bad luck to run against one of them in 
a crowd like that.” 

“Well, you see, Travers, we arei so preciously conspicu- 
ous in these tail-coats; of course it’s the custom, and I 
stick up for old customs; still, I do think it’s a ridiculous 
thing that we should be obliged to wear tail-coats. Of 
course the jackets for the fellows under the upper ‘shell’ 
are all right, but one cannot go on wearing jackets higher 
than that; still, I do think they might let us wear cut- 
aways; tail-coats were all right when every one else wore 
tail-coats, but in our days it is absurd to wear a coat which 
nobody else wears except for an evening dress. You can 
tell a fellow a mile off as a Westminster boy by his coat.” 

“It has its advantages,” James said. “ Look how John- 
stone would lose his importance without his tails, he would 
look like a plucked jay.” 

There was a general laugh. 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


51 


“He is not a bad fellow,” Frank replied, “though he does 
think a good deal of himself. Still, as no one else thinks 
anything of him, it is just as well he should fancy himself. 
But never mind that now. No, I don’t think there is any 
chance of our getting to see the fun in Trafalgar Square. 
I should like to go to one of the halls where those fellows 
spout, and to get up and say something the other way. 
Of course one would have to go in a strong body, else there 
would not be much of us left when we got into the street 
again. I must have a chat with Perkins about it, he is 
sure to be up to all that kind of thing.” 

“ Yes, but there would be the trouble of getting in after 
lock-up.” 

“ Oh, I dare say we might get over that,” Harris replied; 
“the fags would never peach.” 

“We won’t tell them if we can help it,” Frank said; “if 
we go in for any lark of that sort only one of our fags must 
know it. I can trust young Phillpot to hold his tongue. 
Well, 1 will chat it over with Perkins, and see what can 
be done.” 

Perkins was a retired prize-fighter who kept a public- 
house on Bank Side. In a large room attached to the 
house he gave sparring exhibitions twice a week, with the 
aid of other fellow-pugilists, and also gave private lessons 
in the art of self-defense. Bank Side was not out of 
bounds, but it was strictly against the rules for any boy to 
enter a public-house; nevertheless, a good many of the 
Westminster boys had learned boxing from this worthy. 
There was a private entrance behind the house into what 
Perkins called his “saloon,” and the boys strove to con- 
sider that by using this they avoided an infringement of 
the rule. The fact of their taking lessons was unknown to 
the master, for indeed at Westminster the boys were at 
perfect liberty to do as they pleased out of school-time, 
providing that they did not go out of bounds. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIM. 


52 


The rules enforcing attendance at fields or water, of 
abstaining from entering public-houses, and generally of 
conducting themselves as gentlemen, were left to what may 
be called their own police, the senior queen’s scholars and 
the sixth form town boys, and these kept a far more rigor- 
ous hand over the younger boys than the masters could 
possibly have done. A vigorous thrashing was the punish- 
ment for shirking fields, or for any action regarded: as 
caddish; and it was therefore only the upper “shells” and 
sixth, who, being free from the operation of the law as to 
fields and water, were able to frequent Perkins’ establish- 
ment. 

Of those who went there, most of them did so for the 
genuine purpose of learning boxing; but a few used the 
place for the purpose of smoking and drinking. But these 
did so at hours when there was no chance of finding Per- 
kins at work with his pupils, for public feeling would not 
have tolerated, even in an upper form boy, anything that 
would have been looked upon as such bad form. 

The next morning, after breakfast, Frank walked down 
to “The Black Dog.” He was one of Perkins’ best pupils, 
and the latter had more than once been heard to express 
his regret that Frank had not been born in a lower class of 
life. 

“He’s got the making of a champion in him,” the 
ex-pugilist would say regretfully; “in another five years, 
when he has got his full height and filled out, I warrant 
he will fight twelve stone; look how quick he is on his 
pins; and I tell you I have all my work to do now to guard 
my head, he hits like lightning, and once or twice has 
fairly knocked me off my pins. I’d back him now for 
fifty pounds against any novice in England; and as for 
pluck, I have never seen him wince, hit him as hard as you 
will he always comes up smiling. Barkley, he is a good 
boxer too, but he ain’t got tempei, sir; he gets nasty if he 


CAPTAIN BATLEY'S HEIR. 


53 


has a sharp counter; and though he keeps cool enough, 
there is an ugly look about his face which tells its tale. 

. He would never keep his temper, and I doubt if he’s real 
game at bottom. I knows my customers, and have never 
hit him as I hit Norris; I don’t want to lose a pupil as 
pays fair and square, and I know I should mighty soon 
lose him if I were to let out at him sharp. No, there is 
bad blood in that chap somewhere.’' 

“Well, Master Norris, and what do you want at this 
time of the morning?” he said, as Frank, after entering 
the saloon, rang a bell which sounded in the bar and sum- 
moned him to the saloon. “ Not a lesson at this time of 
the day, surely?” 

“Not exactly, Perkins, considering I am due. at ten 
o’clock, and therefore have only five minutes to stay. I 
just dropped in to ask you about something on which you 
can perhaps advise us.” 

“Fire away, Master Norris; anything I can do for you 
you knows as 1 will.” 

“ I was thinking, Perkins, that it would be a great lark 
to go up to one of those halls where those Chartist fellows 
meet, and to hear their speeches.” 

“I don’t see that there would be any lark in it,” Perkins 
replied, “unless you meant getting up a row.” 

“ I don’t know that I exactly meant to get up a row ; but 
if there was a row, so much the more lark.” 

“Well, sir, if I might give my advice, I don’t think, if 
I was you, I would do it in school-time. Your hands can 
guard your face pretty tidy, I grant you, but the chances 
is as you would not get out of such a row as that would be 
without being marked. I knows of a place over the other 
side of the water, not far from the New Out, where they 
meet. Bill Lowe, him as comes here to spar twice a week, 
yer know, he goes there; he takes up with them Chartist 
notions, which I don’t hold with no ways. I don’t see 


54 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


nothing in them seven pints as would do anything for the 
ring; and that being so, let it alone, says I. However, 
Master Norris, since you have a fancy that way I will talk 
the matter over with him, and then if you really makes up 
your mind you would like to go, I will get four or five of 
my lads as can use their mawleys, and we will go in a body. 

“ Then if there should be a row, I reckon we can fight 
our way out. There ain’t much in them chaps, tailors 
and shoemakers, and the like; they are always great hands 
for jaw, them tailors and shoemakers, but I never seed one 
as I would put five pound on in a twelve-foot ring. Poor 
undersized creatures, for the most part, but beggars for 
jaw; but there are some rough uns with ’em, and yer 
might get badly marked before yer got out.” 

But Frank’s mind was now bent upon it. 

“It will be a lark, Perkins, anyhow; things have been 
rather slow at school lately, and three or four of us have 
set our minds on it. So if you let me know what evening 
will suit you, we will be here.” 

Four evenings later Frank Norris, with the other three 
boys, slipped, out after prayers were over, and started on 
their expedition. Frank’s fag closed the door noiselessly 
behind them and rebolted it; he had strict orders to take 
his place at an upper window at eleven o’clock and watch 
for their return. If when they made their appearance the 
house was quiet and the lights out, he w ? as to slip down 
and let them in; if not, they were to go away again and 
return an hour later. All four boys were in thick pea- 
jackets, and wore rough caps which they had bought for 
the purpose. 

When they reached Perkins’ public-house, the prize- 
fighter surveyed them closely. 

“Ye will pass in a crowd,” he said; “but keep your caps 
well down over yer faces. Now mind, young gents, if 
there’s a row comes over this ’ere business, I ain’t to blame 
in the matter.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


55 


“All right, Perkins, but there will be no row.” 

Being joined by Bill Lowe and three other boxers, they 
set out together for the New Cut; past the new Houses of 
Parliament — still in the hands of the builders — over West- 
minster Bridge, past the flaring" lights in front of Astley’s, 
and into the New Cut. 

Here, as usual, business was brisk; the public-houses 
were doing a roaring trade. Rows of costermongers’ carts 
lined the road on either side, and the hoarse shouts of the 
venders of fruit, vegetables, and shell-fish, mingled with 
the babel of voices from the throng of people who loitered 
about the street, which was regarded as the promenade of 
the neighborhood. Sounds of musical instruments and a 
loud chorus came from the upper windows of many of the 
public-houses and from the low music-halls known by the 
name of “penny gaffs.” 

It was in front of one of these that the party stopped. 
Unlike the others, no row of flaring lights burned over the 
entrance, no posters with huge letters and sensational head- 
ings invited the public to enter; one solitary lamp hung 
over the door, which was kept closed ; men were passing 
in, however, after exchanging a word with one of those 
stationed at the door. 

“It’s a private sort of affair,” Perkins said; “none ain’t 
supposed to go but those as is in the swim. They pretend 
to be mighty afraid of the peelers; hut, Lor’ bless you! 
the police don’t trouble about them. When these chaps 
gets to making rows in the street, and to kicking up a 
rumpus, then they will have something to say about it 
sharp enough ; but as long as they merely spout and argue 
among themselves, the peelers lets them go on. Well, 
young gents, here we goes.” 

Bill Lowe advanced first; he was known to the door- 
keeper, and the words “All right, mate, friends of mine,” 
were sufficient. He stood aside, and the party entered. 


56 


CAPTAIN BAT LET'S HEIR. 


Passing through a passage, they were in a hall some fifty 
feet long by half as wide; the walls had originally been 
painted blue, with wreaths of flowers along the top, but 
these and the roof were so discolored by smoke and dirt 
that the whole were reduced to a dingy brown. At the 
end at which they entered was a gallery extending some 
fifteen feet into the room, at the other end was a raised 
platform, with a drop curtain. The latter was now raised, 
and displayed a table with half a dozen chairs. The chair- 
man for the evening was seated in the center of the table, 
lie was a young man with a pale face, eyes bloodshot from 
many nights spent in the reeking atmosphere of the room, 
and tumbled hair, which looked as if weeks had passed 
since it had made the acquaintance of a brush. He had 
just risen as the party entered; the room, which was fairly 
filled with men, rang with the applause which had greeted 
the speaker who had sat down. 

“ Fellow-workmen,” said the chairman — (“I wonder 
what you work at,” Frank muttered below his breath; 
“nothing that requires washing, anyhow.”) — “Fellow- 
workmen, your cheers are evidence how deeply you have 
been moved by the noble words of my friend Mr. Duggins, 
and how your blood boils at the hideous slavery to which 
we are condemned by a tyrannical aristocracy. You will 
now be addressed by my eloquent friend Mr. Simpkins, 
boot-closer.” 

Mr. Simpkins rose. He was a short, round-shouldered 
man, made still shorter by the bend which he had acquired 
by the operation of boot-closing; his eyes were small, and 
sunken in his head ; his nose wide and flat, as if in his 
early youth he had fallen on the edge of a pewter pot, and 
he too had the appearance of regarding water with as deep 
an aversion as he viewed the aristocracy. 

“Fellow-workmen,” he began, “or rather I should say 
fellow-slaves” — this sentiment was received with a roar of 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY ’S HEIR. 


57 


applause, “the time is approaching when our chains will 
be broken, when the bloodstained power known as the 
British Constitution will be rent and trampled under foot, 
when the myrmidons of power will flee before an uprisen 
people. They know it, these oppressors of ours; they 
tremble in their palaces and mansions, where they feast 
upon the wealth drained from the blood of the people. 
They know that the day is at hand, and that the millions 
whose labor has created the wealth of this country are 
about to reclaim their own.” 

A roar of applause went up as the speaker paused and 
mopped his forehead with a red handkerchief. But the 
applause was suddenly stilled by the sound of the emphatic 
“Bosh!” which Frank shouted at the top of his voice. 
Every one turned round, and shouts arose of “Who is 
that?” “Down with him !” “Turn him out!” “Knock 
him down!” The orator seized the occasion. 

“A spy of the tottering government has intruded upon 
the deliberations of this assembly, but I tell him I fear him 
not.” 

“Never mind, out he goes,” one of the men shouted, 
and all began to press upon the little group standing at the 
back of the room, and from one of whom the objectionable 
word had evidently come. 

“We are in for a row, Mr. Norris, and no mistake,” 
Perkins said; “ the sooner we gets out of this the better.” 

But this was not so easily done; the crowd had already 
interposed between them and the door. 

“Now stand back,” Perkins said, “and let us out. We 
ain’t no spies, and we don’t want to hurt any one. Some 
of you may know me; I am Perkins of the Black Dog, 
over at Westminster, so you had best leave us alone.” 

The greater part of those present, however, had imbibed 
sufficient to render them valorous, and a rush was made 
upon the party. 


58 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LET'S HEIR. 


Their reception was a warm one; the five prize-fighters 
struck out right and left, while Frank and his school- 
fellows ably seconded them. A tall red-haired fellow, who 
had singled out Frank, was met by a blow which knocked 
him otf his feet, and he fell backward as if shot. Their 
vigorous blows drove the leading assailants back, and in 
spite of their numbers the crowd of angry men recoiled 
before their handful of opponents. 

“Come on,” Perkins said, “make for the door; they are 
breaking up the chairs, and we shall have it hot in a few 
minutes.” 

Keeping together, they fought their way, in spite of all 
opposition, to the door, Perkins leading, while Bill Lowe 
brought up the rear. They were soon in the open air. 

“Now,” Perkins exclaimed, “you hook it, gents, as fast 
as you can; me and Bill will keep the door for a 
minute.” The hoys dashed off, and after making at full 
speed into the Westminster Bridge road, slackened their 
pace, and walked quietly back to Dean’s yajd. They were 
in high glee over their adventure, which all agreed had 
been a splendid lark, and was the more satisfactory as all 
had escaped without any mark which would testify against 
them. It was still early, and they had for two hours to 
walk the streets until the whistle of the fag at the window 
told them that all were in bed and quiet, and they might 
safely make their entry. This was effected without noise; 
the bolts were slipped into their places again, and with 
their shoes in their hands, the party went noiselessly up to 
their rooms. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


59 


CHAPTEE V. 

A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION. 

Two days later, as Frank was about to start for the 
cricket-field, a small boy, whom he recognized as a son of 
Perkins, stopped him. 

“Father wants to speak to you particular, Mr. Norris.” 

“All right, young tin, I will go round there at once.” 

Wondering what Perkins could have to say to him, 
Frank took his way to the public-house. 

“What is it, Perkins?” he asked the prize-fighter as the 
latter let him into his private parlor. 

“ Well, sir, there’s a rumpus over this business as we had 
the other night.” 

“How a rumpus, Perkins?” 

“Well, sir, there was a tall red-haired chap — leastways I 
hear as lie’s tall and red-lieaded, and is a tailor by trade; 
his name is Suggs. It seems as how he got knocked down 
in the scrummage, and was so bad that the police, who 
came up after you left, took him to hospital; they brought 
him round all right, but it Seems as how the bridge of his 
nose was broke, and it will be flat to his face for the rest 
of his life. Now I fancy that’s a piece of your handiwork, 
Mr. Norris; I saw jist such a chap as that go down when 
you hit him, and I thought to myself at the time what a 
onener it was.” 

“ Yes, I did knock down just such a fellow,” Frank said, 
“and I am sorry I hit him so hard; I was afraid at the 
time that I hurt him.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR . 


CO 

“You should not let out from the shoulder in that sort 
of way, Mr. Norris,” the pugilist said, shaking his head; 
“you hit like the kick of a horse, and you never know 
what mayn’t come of them sort of blows. No, sir; half- 
armed hitting is the thing for a general row; it hurts just 
as much, and is just as good for closing up an eye, but it 
don’t do no general damage, so to speak. Now, sir, there’s 
a row over the business. In course I holds my tongue; 
but they says as four of the party was young uns, and they 
guessed as they was gents. Now they puts things together, 
and have found out as I gives lessons to some of yon West- 
minster gents, and they guesses as some of you was with 
me. Now, as I tells them, what can they do? They was 
the first to begin it, and we was only standing on self- 
defence, that’s the way I puts it. No magistrate would 
look at the charge for a minute. It stands to reason that 
nine men did not attack four or five hundred. They must 
have been attacking us, that’s clear to any one; and if it 
was me I should not care the snap of a finger about it — 
that’s what I tells the red-haired tailor wlien he came here 
with two of his pals this morning. ‘We has as much right 
to our opinions as you have; you attacks us,’ says I, ‘and 
we gives you pepper, that’s all about it.’ ‘His beauty’s 
spoilt for life,’ says one of his mates. ‘He never had no 
beauty to spoil,’ says I, ‘by the look of ’im,’ so we got to 
words. ‘They was Westminster boys,’ says he. ‘That’s 
all you knows about it,’ says I. ‘I will go to their mas- 
ter,’ says he, ‘and report the case, and show him my nose,’ 
says he. ‘You have got no case to report,’ says I, ‘and no 
nose to show.’ ‘We will see about that,’ says he; ‘I ain’t 
going to be made an object for the rest of my life for 
nothing.’ 

“So we goes on arguing; but at last he lets out that if 
I bring him a ‘tenner’ in the course of the week he will 
shut up. I ain’t allowed, of course, Mr. Norris, that any 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR, 


61 


of you young gents had a hand in the fray, quite the con- 
trary; but he has got it into his head that it is so, and he 
has made up his mind that he will go to the master. I 
don’t think it likely that they could spot you, for they 
could hardly have got a fair look at your faces.” 

“No,” Frank said, “I don’t suppose they would recog- 
nize any of us; but the first thing Litter would do would 
be to ask us if any of us were concerned in the affair. It’s 
a beastly nuisance, for just now I happen to be completely 
cleaned out, and I am sure I do not know where I could 
get ten pounds from.” 

“If it had been any other time I could have helped you, 
Mr. Norris, hut I paid my brewers only last night, and I 
ain’t got two quid in the house; but I might manage to 
get it for you by the end of the week, if there ain’t no 
other way. But my advice to you would be, let the red- 
haired man go to the master; if you keep your own coun- 
sel, no one can swear it out against you.” 

“No, I won’t do that, Perkins,” Frank said, “it’s 
known in the house; besides, if I am asked I must say it’s 
me. Thank you for your offer. I will see you again in a 
day or two.” 

Frank walked back to his boarding-house, moody and 
dejected. Harris was in his room working. Frank told 
him what had happened. 

“This is a had business indeed,” Harris said. “By Jove! 
if it comes out, Litter would expel the four of us. What 
is to be done? I am sure I don’t know.” 

“I don’t see where I am to get ten pounds; I have only 
got fifteen shillings now.” 

“I have only seven and sixpence,” Harris said. “I have 
paid Shotten’s bill for last term this week, and I know 
that Travers and James have not much more than I have. 
We might get something on our watches; but they are all 
silver, and I don’t suppose we could get more than a 


62 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY'S HEIR. 


pound apiece for them. But still that’s something, and 
with our united silver would make up six pounds.” 

“I could get a pound or two from my cousin,” Frank 
said; “Fred always seems to be well supplied with money.” 

“Because he never spends any,” Harris said. “I am 
mistaken if Barkley will lend you anything.” 

“Oh, he will lend it if lie’s got it.” But Harris turned 
out to be right. After the next school Frank laid the case 
before his cousin, who listened in silence to the story. 

“I am very sorry, Frank,” he said when he had finished, 
“but I am entirely out of money at present.” 

“I thought you always had money,” Frank said shortly. 

“Not always,” Fred replied quietly. “As you know, I 
am fond of books, and last week I paid my bill for that 
edition of Shakespeare that you were admiring.” 

Fred Barkley had indeed a library of books of which he 
was very proud, and which was worth more than all those 
belonging to the rest of the boys up college together. 
Frank was too proud to suggest that his*cousin could, if 
he chose, easily raise the amount required on a few of his 
favorites, aud left the room without saying a word. 

Fred Barkley did not continue the work upon which he 
was engaged after his cousin had left the room, but sat 
looking fixedly at the papers before him. 

“This is a grand opportunity,” he muttered to himself, 
“and I should be a fool if I let it slip. The question is, 
how is it best to be managed. I should be an idiot indeed 
if I cannot put a spoke into Master Frank’s wheel some- 
how.” 

The next day the sixth form, as usual, went into the 
library to do their construing. Dr. Litter, according to 
his usual custom, walked up and down hearing them and 
asking questions, the form sitting at their desks, which 
ran round the room. The doctor was a fidgety man, and 
was always either twirling his watch-chain or eyeglass, or 


captain bay ley b heir. 


63 


rattling the keys, knife, and other articles in his trousers 
pockets. Being perfectly conscious of the habit, he often 
emptied the contents of his pocket on to the table before 
starting to walk about the room, and this he did on the 
present occasion. 

As often happened, he was called from the room in the 
course of the lesson, and, ordering the boys to get up 
twenty additional lines of their Greek play in his absence, 
he left the room and did not return for half an hour. 
While he was away the boys moved freely about, some to 
consult each other’s lexicons, others to chat. When Dr. 
Litter returned the lesson was finished, and the boys went 
back to the great schoolroom. 

On the following morning Frank Norris received a letter. 
On his opening it he found, to his astonishment, that it 
contained only a bank-note for ten pounds, with the words 
“From a friend.” Frank was simply astounded. 

Who on earth could have sent him the exact sum of 
which he stood in need? He at once told his three friends 
what had occurred, and they were as much astonished as 
himself. All agreed that it was a perfect Godsend, though 
how any one could have got to know of his necessity for 
ten pounds at this special time none could imagine, as this 
was, as far as they were aware, known only to themselves 
and Fred Barkley. Frank at once concluded that his 
cousin must have sent him the money, and immediately 
sent up college and asked him to come to his room. Fred 
soon came up, and Frank at once proceeded to thank him 
for his gift. Fred, however, appeared as surprised as him- 
self, and disclaimed any knowledge whatever of the note. 

“I told you, Frank,” he said reproachfully, “that I had 
no money. Do you think that if I had it I would not 
have given it to you at once, instead of sending it in that 
roundabout manner? Do you know the handwriting? 
that may afford you some clew.” 


64 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


“No,” Frank said; “the name and address, as well as 
the words within, are done in printing characters, so that 
it is impossible to say who wrote them. Well, it is an 
extraordinary business, and I can only say that I am 
extremely thankful to the good fairy who has got me out 
of the scrape.” 

Frank felt indeed relieved. He felt sure that the head- 
master would consider such an escapade by boys of the 
sixth form an unforgivable crime, and that expulsion 
would follow discovery; and knowing the hot temper of 
his uncle, he feared that the latter would view the matter 
in the most serious light. It was therefore with a light 
heart that he went across to the Black Dog and placed the 
note in the hands of Perkins, merely saying that he was 
glad to say that he had been able to get the money to sat- 
isfy the red-haired tailor for his loss of beauty. 

“It goes agin my heart to give it to him, Mr. Norris; 
but in course if you decide not to face it out there’s nothing 
for it. I am glad you have got the money together.” 

A week later one of the monitors informed Frank that 
the head-master wished to see him in the library. Won- 
dering at this ususual order, Frank at once repaired there. 
Dr. Litter was sitting at his table, and he raised his eyes 
gravely as Frank entered. 

“Norris,” he said, “I have been shocked at what has 
happened more than at anything which has occurred to 
me during my head -mastership of Westminster. I may 
tell you that everything is discovered. Now I leave it to 
you to make a full and frank confession.” 

Frank was thunderstruck. So in some way his breaking 
out of bounds had become known to the head-master. 
The tailor must have turned traitor and peached after hav- 
ing received his money. 

For a minute he stood silent and confounded, while Dr. 
Litter looked at him gravely. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


65 


“ I acknowledge, sir,” Frank began, “that I broke out 
of bounds to go to a Chartist meeting, and that I got into 
a row there. I am very sorry now, but I really meant no 
harm by it; it was a foolish lark.” 

“And is that all you have to confess?” Dr. Litter said 
quietly. 

“Yes, sir,” Frank said in surprise, “I don’t know that 
there’s anything else for me to say.” 

“You have not come to the most serious part of it yet,” 
the doctor said. 

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Frank said, more 
and more astonished. 

“You hurt him, and very seriously.” 

“Yes, sir, I broke a man’s nose in the fight, but I did 
it in self-defense.” 

“ And you paid him ten pounds to prevent his coming to 
me,” the doctor said. 

“ I acknowledge that I did so, but I don’t see there was 
any harm in that.” 

“And where did you get the ten pounds from?” the 
doctor asked slowly. 

“ It was sent to me in an envelope,” Frank replied. 

“And who sent it to you?” 

“I don’t know, sir.” 

“Norris,” the doctor said sternly, “you stole that note 
from my table.” 

Frank stepped back as if struck, the blood left his face, 
and he stood deadly pale. 

“Stole it!” he repeated, in a low, wondering tone. 

“Yes,” the doctor repeated, “stole it from my table 
when I left the room.” 

“It is a lie!” Frank exclaimed, in a burst of passion; 
“it is a lie, sir, whoever said it.” 

Without replying to the outburst, the doctor touched a 
bell which stood on the table, and a junior waiting outside 
entered. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“ Tell Mr. Wire and Mr. Richards I wish to speak to 
them.” 

Not a word was spoken in the library until the under- 
masters entered. A thousand thoughts passed rapidly 
through Frank’s brain. He was bewildered, and almost 
stupefied by this sudden charge, and yet he felt how diffi- 
cult it would be to clear himself from it. The undermas- 
tei and Frank’s house-master entered. 

“I have sent for you, gentlemen, on a most painful busi- 
ness,” Dr. Litter said. “I mentioned to you, Mr. Wire, a 
week since, that I had lost a ten -pound note. I placed it 
on the table here, during the morning lesson, with my 
keys and pencil. I was called out of the room for half an 
hour. When school was over I put the things back in my 
pocket, but it was not until the afternoon that I missed 
the note. Thinking it over, I could not recall taking it 
up with the other things from the table; but of this I 
could not be positively certain. As I told you, I could 
not for a moment believe that any of the boys of my form 
could have taken it, and I could only suppose that I had 
dropped it between the school and my house. 

“ As it happened, I had only got the note the day before 
from my bankers, and had therefore no difficulty in obtain- 
ing the number. I gave notice at the Bank of England at 
once that the note had been lost, and requested them to 
obtain the name and address of the presenter, should it be 
brought in. It was presented yesterday by a man who, 
after being questioned, said he was a tailor, living in 
Bermondsey. As I was determined to follow the matter 
up, I saw the superintendent of police, and a policeman 
was sent across to him. The man said that he had been 
seriously injured by one of my boys at a low meeting held 
at some place in the New Out, and that the ten pounds 
had been given him as compensation, he having threatened 
to come and complain to me. 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


67 


if He. was ignorant of the name of the boy, bnt he had 
received the note from a prize-fighter named Perkins, who 
keeps a low public-house down at Millbank. I sent a note 
to the man, requesting him to be good enough to call upon 
me this morning early. He did so. I told him that I had 
heard that he had paid to that man ten pounds as compen- 
sation for an injury which he had received from one of my 
boys, and I asked him from whom he had received it. 

“ He told me that nothing whatever would have induced 
him to tell; but as he knew the young gent would himself 
confess the instant the question was put, for he had told him 
he should do so did it come to my ears, there was no motive 
in his keeping silence, and it was Mr. Norris who had 
given it to him. On inquiry I find that the meeting in 
question was held between half-past nine and eleven; 
therefore, to have been present, Norris must have broken 
out of bounds and got into the boarding-house at night. 

“ This, in itself, would be a very grave offense, but it is 
as nothing by the side of the other. I am most reluctantly 
obliged to admit that I can come to but one conclusion: 
Norris, having broken bounds, and got into a disgraceful 
fray, was afraid that the matter would come to my ears. 
It was absolutely necessary for him to procure ten pounds 
to buy the silence of this man; my own very culpable 
carelessness, which I most deeply regret, left the note on 
the table, and the temptation was too much for him. 

“ I have questioned him how he got it. If he had said 
that he had picked it up in the yard, and, not knowing to 
whom it belonged, had very improperly, without making 
inquiry, devoted it to the purpose of silencing this man, I 
should have gladly believed him — for hitherto he has stood 
high in my estimation, and I should certainly have con- 
sidered him incapable of an act of theft. But he tells me 
that it was sent to him in an envelope, by whom he does 
not know; and this absurd story is, to my mind, a clear 
proof that he must have stolen it from the table.” 


68 


CAPTAIN BA TLET *8 NEIfl. 


The two masters had at first looked at Frank with 
incredulous surprise, but as the narrative continued and 
the proofs appeared to accumulate, the expression changed, 
and they regarded him with horror, not unmixed with 
pity. For a minute there was silence, then Mr. Richards 
said : 

“Strong as the proofs seem to be, sir, I can hardly 
believe in the possibility of Norris having behaved in this 
way. He has always been a particularly straightforward, 
honest, and honorable lad ; there is not a boy in the house 
of whom I would so absolutely have disbelieved this tale. 
That he did send this note to the man there can, by his 
own confession, be no doubt, but I still cannot believe that 
he stole it. Come now, Norris, you have got into a terrible 
scrape, but don’t make matters worse; tell us frankly the 
truth about it.” 

“I have told the truth,” Frank said, in a low and 
unnatural voice. “I received the note in an envelope; 
here it is, sir, with, as you see, only the words ‘From a 
friend.’ I showed it when I had got it to Harris, Travers, 
James, and Barkley, and had not the remotest idea who it 
came from.” 

“ To whom had you mentioned the need you had of ten 
pounds?” Mr. Wire asked. 

“No one knew it except those four and Perkins, not a 
soul.” 

The three masters looked even more grave. The four 
boys were sent for one by one, and were asked if they had 
mentioned to any one the need which Frank had of ten 
pounds; but all declared they had spoken to no one on the 
subject. 

“ He showed you the envelope containing the note he 
received; what did you think about it?” 

“It seemed a curious thing, sir,” Harris said, “but none 
of us could account for it.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


G9 


“I am accused,” Frank said in a harsh voice, “of having 
stolen that note from Dr. Litter’s table.” 

For the moment the four boys stood in silent astonish- 
ment. 

“Nonsense, Frank,” Harris burst out impetuously, “we 
know you better than that, old fellow; if an angel from 
heaven came down and told me you were a thief I would 
not believe him,” and Harris seized his friend’s hand and 
wrung it warmly, an example followed by his three com- 
panions. 

Hitherto Frank’s face had been hard and set, but he 
broke down now, and the tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“You can go now,” Dr. Litter said, and when the door 
closed upon them he continued: “I would give much, very 
much, "Norris, to be able to believe in your innocence; but 
I cannot see a possibility of it; the evidence to my mind is 
overwhelming. I acquit you of any idea of deliberate 
theft. You were pressed and afraid of exposure, and the 
temptation offered by the note was too strong for you ; you 
thought you saw a way of escape, and to account to your 
comrades for the possession of the money, you put it in 
an envelope and posted it, directed to yourself. Even 
now, if you will confess the truth, I will send you home 
privately, and avoid public expulsion and disgrace in con- 
sideration of the good character you have always hitherto 
borne; if not, I must at once lay the whole facts before 
your uncle and guardian, and to-morrow you will be pub- 
licly expelled. ” 

“I have nothing to say, sir,” Frank said quietly; “over- 
whelming as the proof appears against me, I have spoken 
the simple truth, and I swear that I never saw that note 
until I took it from the envelope.” 

“Go to your room, sir!” Dr. Litter said, with indigna- 
tion, “this continued denial is almost worse than the 
offense.” 


70 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S EEIR. 


Without a word Frank rose and left the library. 

“This is indeed a shocking business,” Mr. Wire said, 
as he followed Dr. Litter to the schoolroom. 

“I cannot credit it,” Mr. Richards put in; “I know him 
so well, that, absolutely conclusive as I allow the evidence 
to be, I still hesitate to believe him to be guilty.” 

After school was over Fred Barkley ran up to his cousin’s 
room. 

“My dear Frank,” he exclaimed, “we are ordered not to 
communicate with you, but I could not help running in to 
tell you that every one believes you to be innocent.” 

“I hardly know whether I believe it myself,” Frank said 
bitterly. “But you can do something for me, Fred; I 
have written a line to my uncle, will you post it for me at 
once?” 

“Certainly,” Fred replied; “but there is some one com- 
ing upstairs, so I must be off.” He took the letter and 
was gone. It contained only a few words: 

“My Dear Uncle: If you believe me innocent of this 
hideous charge, which I swear to you I am not guilty of, 
send me one line by hand when you get this. As long as 
I know that you have faith in me I can face it out.” 

The afternoon passed slowly to the prisoner. His uncle 
would g?t the letter between three and four, and he might 
have an answer half an hour afterward. Hour after hour 
passed, and, except the servant who brought up his tea, no 
one came near him. He reasoned to himself that his 
uncle might be out. At eight o’clock he heard a noise on 
the stairs; a number of feet approached his room, and then 
the door opened, and the whole of the boys in the board- 
ing-house poured in. 

“Norris, old fellow,” Harris said, “we could stop away 
no longer, and in spite of orders we have come to see you. 
I beg to tell you in the name of the whole house, and I 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


n 


may say the whole school, that not a boy here believes yon 
to be guilty. How the note came into your hands we don’t 
know and we don’t care, but we are certain you did not 
take it.” 

“No! no!” was shouted in a chorus. 

“So keep up your spirits, old fellow,” Harris said, “it 
will come right sooner or later.” 

For some time Frank was unable to speak. 

“Thank you all,” he said at last, in a choking voice, “it 
is a consolation to me indeed to know that my old friends 
still believe in me; but, till my innocence is proved, I shall 
never be able to look the world in the face again.” 

“Come, boys, this will not do,” a voice at the door said. 
“ Harris, you elder boys ought to set a better example to 
the younger ones. I told you that the doctor’s orders were 
positive that no one was to communicate with Norris.” 

“I can’t help it, sir,” Harris said; “we all felt we 
couldn’t go to bed to-night without telling Norris that we 
knew he was innocent.” 

“ Well, well, you must go downstairs now,” not unkindly; 
“you must not stay a minute longer.” There was a 
chorus of “Good-night, Norris!” “Good-night, old fel- 
low!” “Keep up your pluck!” and various other encour- 
aging expressions, and the party filed out of the door; Mr. 
Richards waited to see the last out, and then left Frank to 
his thoughts. 

Not till ten o’clock did Frank give up all hope of hear- 
ing from his uncle, then he felt he had been condemned. 

“All my school-fellows acquit me, and my uncle, who 
should know me better than any of them, condemns me. 
I wonder what Alice said. I don’t believe she would 
believe me guilty if all the world told her.” 

At this moment the door opened quietly again, and Fred 
Barkley entered. Frank leaped to his feet to see if he was 
the bearer of a letter. 


72 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’8 HEIR. 


Fred shook his head in answer to the unasked question. 

“I have slipped out of college to see you, Frank, and 
Kichards has given me leave to come up. I have no news, 

I only came to see what you were going to do.” 

“You posted the letter to my uncle, Fred?” he asked. 

“Yes, at once,” he replied. 

Frank was silent. 

“What do you mean to do?” Fred went on. 

“Do?” Frank asked, “what do you mean?” 

“ Why I suppose you don’t mean to stop here until to- 
morrow?” 

“I don’t know,” Frank replied, “I had not thought 
about it.” 

“I shouldn’t, if I were in your place. It would be a 
fearful business; there hasn’t been a boy expelled from 
Westminster for the last thirty years. I shouldn’t stop 
for it if I were you.” 

“But what am I to do? where am I to go?” said Frank 
listlessly. 

“ Do?” said Fred, “ why, go abroad to be sure. I should 
go out to California, or Australia, or somewhere, and in 
time this will be all forgotten. Perhaps it will turn out 
who sent that money. It is not as if facing it out would 
do any good, for you can prove nothing. Every one who 
know ytii$ believes you innocent.” 

“Uncle Harry doesn’t,” Frank said bitterly, “or he 
would have sent an answer to my letter.” 

“Ah! well, you know what he is,” Fred said, “how pas- 
sionate and hasty he is; but after a time he will think as 
we all do, never fear. Look here, I thought that you 
would want some money, so have been round to Ginger’s 
and have sold all my books. The old beggar would not 
give me more than twenty pounds for them, though I have 
paid him more than double that, besides what I have 
bought from others. However, here are the twenty 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


73 


pounds at your service; if you like to take them you are 
welcome.” 

Frank remained irresolute for a moment; then the 
thought of the terrible scene in the schoolroom, and of the 
tones in which the doctor would pronounce his expulsion, 
overcame him. 

“I may as well go before as after, for I could not go 
home after that. Thank you, Fred, with all my heart; 1 
will take your money and advice, and if I get a rich man I 
will pay you again. Are the fellows in bed?” 

“Yes,” Fred replied, “and Richards is in his study, so 
you can go down with me and slip out easy enough.” 

“Tell the others,” Frank said, “that I went because I 
could not face the scene to-morrow, and that I hope some 
day to return and prove my innocence.” 

Without another word he opened his drawers, packed 
some clothes in a small portmanteau, put on his pea-jacket 
and the low cap he had worn in his unfortunate expedition 
to the New Cut; then he stole softly downstairs with Fred, 
and sallied out into the night air. 


74 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


CHAPTER VI. 

AT NEW ORLEANS. 

Frank Norris took his way eastward after leaving 
Westminster. He slept at a small hotel in the city, and at 
daybreak walked on to the docks. He was careless where 
he went, so that it was out of England; but he was deter- 
mined, if possible, to work his passage, so as to leave the 
sum of money in his pocket untouched until he got to his 
destination. He went on board a number of ships and 
asked the captains if they wanted hands, but on his 
acknowledgment that he had never been at sea, none of 
them would ship him for the outward voyage only. At 
last he paused before a fine ship, the Mississippi; a printed 
placard on the wharf beside her mentioned that the well- 
known and favorite clipper would sail for New Orleans on 
that day. He walked on board and went up to the captain, 
who was talking to the first mate, while the latter was 
superintending the getting of cargo on board. 

“Do you want a hand, sir?” 

“Well, that depends,” the captain said; “I am still two 
or three hands short, but they have promised to send me 
them this morning. Are you a sailor?” 

“No, sir; but I can row and sail an open boat, and am 
ready to make myself useful. I want to work my passage 
out.” 

“You look an active young fellow,” the captain said, 
“but I don’t care about taking a landsman only for the 
voyage out; I should have to ship another hand in your 
place at New Orleans, and probably have to pay more 


CAPTAIN BAYLET’S HEIR . 


75 


wages there than I could get one for here. Still, likely 
enough, they may send me down at the last moment two 
or three hands who know no more about it than you do, 
and may not be half so willing to learn as I should judge 
you to be. What do you say, Ephraim; shall we take 
him?” 

“He looks a likely sort,” the mate said. 

“Very well then, it’s agreed; you can take off your coat 
and fall to work at once; I will send down word to the 
office that I have shipped you.” Frank stripped, off his 
coat and waistcoat, and stowed them, with his portmanteau, 
out of the way, and then set to work with a will, the 
whiteness of his shirt, and his general appearance, exciting 
some jeering comments among the other men at work; but 
the activity and strength which he showed soon astonished 
and silenced them. 

By one o’clock the last bale of cargo was stowed, and 
the hatches put on. The landsmen who had been employed 
went on shore, and Frank went forward to the forecastle, 
with the men, to dinner. 

“Not the sort of grub you have been accustomed to, lad,” 
one of the men said. 

“I have eaten worse,” Frank said carelessly, “and don’t 
care if I never eat better. How long do you suppose we 
shall be before we get to New Orleans?” 

“It all depends upon the wind,” the sailor answered, 
“maybe a month, maybe three. Are you going to leave 
us there?” 

“Yes,” Frank said, “I am only working my passageout.” 

“It’s a roughish place is New Orleans,” the sailor said; 
“the sort of place where you want to have a knife or pistol 
ready at hand. Lor’, I have seen some rum doings there; 
it’s a word and a blow, I can tell ye.” 

“Ah! well,” Frank laughed, “I suppose I shall do as 
well as the rest,” 


76 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


The voice of the mate was now heard calling to all 
hands to prepare to cast off. The men had hurried through 
their dinner, for they knew that the time allowed them 
would be short, and began casting off hawsers, coiling down 
ropes, and preparing for a start. The bell was ringing, 
and the friends of the passengers were saying good-by. 
The capstan was manned, and the vessel moved slowly 
away from the quay. 

Five minutes later she was at the dock gates; these 
swung open, and the vessel slowly made her way through 
them, and was soon in the river. 

As the men ran aloft to loosen the sails, Frank placed 
himself next to the sailor who had spoken to him at dinner, 
and followed him up the shrouds, and, imitating his 
actions, he was soon out on the yard hauling away with the 
others. When the sails were all set he returned below. 

“Wall done, youngster,” the mate said; M I reckon you 
are about as spry for a green hand as any I have come 
across; I had my eye on you, and you’ll do. You go on 
like that, and you will make a first-rate hand afore long.” 

There was plenty of work to do as they went down the 
river. The sails had to be braced round as the wind took 
them on different sides in the winding reaches; the decks 
were sluiced down, to get rid of the first coat of dirt which 
they had acquired in the docks; ropes had to be coiled and 
tidied up, and the many articles lying loosely about the 
deck to be put in their places and lashed in readiness for 
sea work. The tide met them just as it was getting dark, 

. and as the wind dropped, and Avas not sufficiently strong 
to carry the ship against it, the anchor was dropped a few 
miles below Gravesend. 

The men Avere divided into tAvo Avatches, but all were told 
that, with the exception of tAvo stationed as an anchor 
Avatch, they could turn in till tide turned. Frank threw 
himself at once into the bunk Avhich had been allotted to 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR . 


77 


him. He had not closed an eye the night before, and was 
worn out by emotion and fatigue, and scarcely had he lain 
down than he was sound asleep. He had been placed in 
the starboard watch, and slept till he was roughly shaken 
at four o’clock in the morning. 

“Get up, mate, your watch' is called.” 

Frank leaped out and made his way on deck. The vessel 
had been now three hours under weigh. She had passed 
the Nore, whose light shone brightly over the stern. 

“The wind is freshening a bit,” one of the men said, 
“we shall be out round the Foreland by dinner-time.” 

The voyage was an uneventful one; Frank escaped the 
first fight in which newcomers generally have to take part 
before they settle down in their new sphere. He was 
thoroughly good-tempered, and fully a match for any of 
his messmates in chaff, and he soon became a favorite in 
the fo’castle. He was always ready to take his share of 
the work, and was soon as much at home on the yards as 
the rest. The change and the newness of the life were 
very good for him; he was never alone, and had no time 
to think or brood over his troubles, and he was almost sorry 
when the end of the voyage approached. 

“Not a lively-looking shore,” the mate said to him as 
he leaned against the bulwark, looking at the low banks of 
the river a few miles below New Orleans. “No, even an 
American may confess that there ain’t much beauty about 
this river. It’s a great river, and a mighty useful one, 
but it ain’t beautiful. Now, what are you thinking of 
doing when you get ashore?” 

“I was thinking to begin by getting employment on 
board a boat of some sort. What I shall do afterward of 
course I do not know; but if I can earn my living on the 
water for a few months, till I have time to look round and 
see what is best to be done, I shall be well satisfied. I 
have got a few pounds, but I don’t want to touch them; 


78 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


they will come in useful if I want to move, or to buy a 
horse, or anything of that sort.” 

“You will do,” the mate said. “You have shown your- 
self a right-down sharp fellow on board this ship, and I 
expect you will make your way whatever you try a hand 
at. I have taken a fancy to you, and should be glad to do 
you a good turn if I can. I have been in and out of this 
port for some years, and know Orleans pretty tidy, and I 
can tell you that there ain’t a port on this side of the water 
or the other where a fellow can be put out of the way more 
promptly than here; there are parts of New Orleans which, 
I tell you, are a sort of hell on earth. 

“ There are places you couldn’t go into without some 
one picking a quarrel with you afore you have been in 
there two minutes, and a quarrel here means knives out 
afore you have time to think. On the other hand, Orleans 
is a place where a steady industrious fellow, with his head 
screwed on right, has a good chance of getting on. The 
trade up the river is immense, and will be far greater than 
it is now; and there’s pretty well a continent to the west, 
with openings of all sorts, land and cattle, houses and min- 
ing, and trade with Mexico. But I don’t see as you can 
do better than to follow out your own idea. 

“I know'k score of men here who own boats trading up 
the river, and the first time I go ashore I will take you 
with me and put you in good hands. The rate of pay 
ain’t high, for it’s looked on as easy work; still, a few 
months at it will open your eyes and put you into the 
ways of the country, and, once at home, I tell you there’s 
money to be made on the river, heaps of it, and when it’s 
seen that you are steady, and willing, and ’cute, you will 
find plenty vdio will give you a helping hand. There’s no 
greater place for loafers than New Orleans, and a chap who 
will really work will soon make his mark.” 

Frank warmly thanked the mate for his offer. The 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


79 


moment the ship cast anchor off the town a crowd of 
negroes came on board and unloaded her, and the crew had 
comparatively little to do; the three or four passengers 
who had come out in her went on shore at once, but it was 
not until the third afternoon after her arrival that the 
mate was able to leave the ship. 

“Now, lad,” he said to Frank, “jump into the boat 
along with me, and I will see if I can’t put you into the 
grobve.” 

Keeping along the wharves for some distance, the mate 
presently entered a small wooden office, telling Frank to 
wait outside. 

On entering he accosted the only occupant of the place, 
a man of. some forty years of age, who was dressed entirely 
in white, and was sitting smoking a huge cigar, with his 
chair tilted back and his feet on the table. 

“How are you, Ephraim?” he said, as the mate entered. 
“ I saw your ship had arrived. Had a good voyage?” 

“First-class,” the mate replied; “not very fast, but 
quiet and comfortable,” and he took a cigar from an open 
box on the table and lighted it. “I haven’t come round 
for a talk with you now, I have only just come ashore for 
the first time; but I wanted to speak to you about a young 
chap as came out with us. He has worked his passage out, 
and is about the smartest young fellow I ever shipped, and 
has the makings of a first-class seaman in him, but he 
doesn’t care about stopping at sea. He’s of good family in 
the old country, as one can easily see. I expect he has got 
into some scrape, and has had to make a bolt of it; how- 
ever, that’s no business of mine. He’s as strong as a 
horse, and as active as a squirrel; he can handle an oar and 
sail a boat. I didn’t like the thought of his landing here 
and getting into bad hands, so I thought I would come 
straight to you. He said what he wanted to do was to 
work on the river, for a few months at any rate, until he 


80 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


got to know the place. Now I know yon have a dozen 
tugs and a score of barges, and I thought you might set 
him on at once. He would make a good second hand on 
one of your large boats. If it’s but to oblige me, I wish 
you w 7 ould put him on board one with a sober, steady chap 
of a decent kind ; as soon as he gets to know the work and 
the river, I will guarantee that he will be fit to take charge 
himself.” 

“ That’s easy enough done, Ephraim,” the trader replied, 
“all except finding the sober and steady decent man to put 
him under. However, I will do my best. Have you got 
him here?” 

“Yes, he is outside,” Ephraim said; and rising, he went 
to the door and called Frank in. “This is the hand I was 
speaking to you about, Mr. Willcox.” 

“Well, young man,” the trader said, “I hear you want 
a berth on board a tug or flat. Which w r ould you rather 
have?” 

“ I would prefer to be on a flat, at any rate for a time, 
sir,” Frank said; “I am a pretty good hand at sailing or 
rowing, but I don’t know anything about steamboats.” 

“There’s not much to learn in that,” the trader said; 
“the work is simply to keep the decks clean, to help to 
load and uhload at each landing-place, and to pole off in 
shallows. However, I will put you on board a flat. The 
wages to begin with will be twenty dollars a month and 
your keep, if that will suit you.” 

“That will do, sir, very well,” Frank said. “When 
shall I come to work?” 

“ If you come here this time to-morrow you can go 
aboard at once. One of the flats will go up the first thing 
in the morning.” 

“ Thank you, sir, I will be here. I am greatly obliged 
to you, Mr. Alderson, for your kind recommendation of 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


81 


“I am glad to have put you into a berth,” the mate said. 
“ Now I should recommend you to get on board again soon.” 

Frank strolled about the wharves for an hour or two, 
and then went on board. Before going on shore the fol- 
lowing day, the captain gave him a certificate, saying that 
he had sailed in the Mississippi, and was a good, willing, 
and reliable hand. 

“You may not intend to go to sea again, but if you 
should, this will get you a better berth than if you had 
applied as a landsman. I am very pleased with your con- 
duct on board the ship, and I am only sorry you are leav- 
ing us. I think it’s a pity you don’t stick to it, for it is 
clear that you are well educated, and would be able to pass 
as a mate as soon as you had been the requisite time at sea. 
However, you can fall back on that if you don’t get on as 
well as you expect on shore.” 

The mate said good-by to him warmly. 

“Your employer is one of the very best in the place,” 
said he. “You must not suppose he is in a small way 
because you see him in that little office; he is one of the 
largest tug and flat owners in New Orleans. He keeps his 
eye on his men, and will push you forward if he sees you 
deserve it. He has the name of having the best of cap- 
tains on the river, and of being one of the best and most 
liberal of employers. But you must not expect much in 
flat life, you will find the men rough as well as the work.” 

“I shan’t mind that,” Frank said cheerfully; “our own 
bargemen on the Thames are not the most polished of 
men.” 

“And, lad,” the mate added, “I should advise you to 
hand over any money you may have with you to Mr. Will- 
cox; the less money you have in your pockets the better. 
You have no occasion for it on the river, and there are 
loafers hanging about at every landing who would think 
nothing of knocking a man on the head if they thought he 
had got fifty dollars in his pocket.” 


82 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S IlfflU. 


Frank promised to take his advice, and, with a hearty 
farewell to the mate, and a cordial one to his late ship- 
mates, be put his portmanteau in the boat and was rowed 
ashore. 

“Oh, here you are,” Mr. Willcox said, as he entered; 
“just give a call to that man you see outside.” 

Before doing so, Frank handed over his twenty sover- 
eigns to the trader, asking him to keep them for him, and 
then went to the door. On a log close by a tall, gaunt 
man was sitting smoking a short pipe. Frank asked him 
to step in. 

“Hiram,” the trader said, “this is the young Britisher 
who is going as your second hand. I have good accounts 
of him as a sailor, so you won’t have to teach him that 
part of the business. Of course he is new to the river and 
its ways.” 

“I will put him through,” the man said, “and will teach 
him as much as I knows myself if he cares to learn.” 

“There is no one knows the river better, Hiram; and, 
as you know, I would have given you the command of a 
steamer long ago if you would have taken it.” 

“No, sir,” the man said emphatically, “not for Hiram 
Little. I have been on board a . flat all my days, and am 
not going to be hurried along in one of them puffing 
things. They have their uses, I am ready enough to 
allow, when the current is swift and the wind light; I am 
glad enough of a cast now and then, but to be always in a 
bustle and flurry is more than I could stand. Come along, 
youngster, with your sack; the boat is a quarter of a mile 
down.” 

Taking up his portmanteau, Frank followed his con- 
ductor, who with long strides led the way along the wharf. 
Not a word was spoken till they reached the side of the 
boat. This was not a flat such as now are in general use, 
but a large boat some forty feet in length by fourteen wide, 


VAPTAtN BAYLET'S HEIR. 


83 


almost flat-bottomed, and capable of carrying a cargo of 
eight or ten tons of goods. In the stern was a little cabin 
some eight feet long for the captain and his mate. In 
front was a similar structure for the four negroes who 
formed the crew. 

She carried one mast, with a large lug-sail. She had 
four sweeps, but these were seldom used. When the wind 
was fair she ran before it, when it was foul the mast was 
lowered ; if it fell calm when they were coming down the 
stream they drifted with it, if when going up, they either 
anchored or poled her along in the back waters close 
inshore, or made their way up the numerous channels 
where the stream flowed sluggishly, or tied on behind a 
tug if one happened to come along. 

Their principal work was to carry up supplies to the vari- 
ous plantations along the banks, to trade with the villages, 
and to bring down produce to New Orleans; for the stop- 
ping places of the steamers were at wide distances apart, and 
the number of steamers themselves very small in compari- 
son with those now afloat on the great river. At times 
they made longer journeys, going up as far as St. Louis; 
but in that case they were generally, as Frank afterward 
learned, towed up the whole distance. 

“Hi! Pete, shove that plank ashore,” Hiram shouted, 
and a negro at once showed his head above a scuttle in the 
bow of the boat, and then emerging, pushed a plank across 
the fifteen feet of water which intervened between the flat 
and the wharf. 

“That’s your first lesson, young man,” Hiram said. 
“Never on no account lay your craft close alongside; thar’s 
river thieves at these landings as would empty half the 
cargo if you left the boat for ten minutes, if they could 
step aboard, and these niggers are always asleep the minute 
after you take your eyes off them. So, whether you have 
got anything aboard or not, stick to the rule and moor her 


84 


CAPTAIN BAY LET’S HEIR. 


a bit off the wharf. It’s only the trouble of dropping the 
grapnel over on the outside in addition to the hawser 
ashore, and then there’s never no trouble when you get- 
back and have to report as how yon have lost some of the 
bales. It ain’t as how we carry up many things as would 
pay for taking; soft goods for the stores up the river mostly 
goes by steamer, but them as ain’t hurried, and likes to 
keep their dollars in their pockets, has their goods up by 
flats. I have got ten hogsheads of sugar, twenty-four 
crates of hardware, some barrels of molasses, and forty 
casks of spirits on board, eighty kegs of nails and a ton or 
two of rice and flour. We reckon to go up light, and I 
don’t care to have the flat more nor half-full, for when the 
river’s low and the wind light the less we have on board 
the better. Now, Pete, let’s have tea as soon as may be.” 

By this time they had entered the cabin at the stern of 
the boat. It was only about five feet high, but was large 
and roomy, and Frank saw with pleasure^ that it was neat 
and clean, and was an abode infinitely preferable to the 
forecastle of the Mississippi. 

“Now, lad, that’s your side, and this is mine; that’s 
your bunk. I am given to tidy ways, having all my life 
lived irr small places, and I hope as you will fall into my 
ways; I keeps the cabin tidy myself, and Pete never comes 
aft here except to bring the food and take it away again; 
I can’fVbear niggers messing about a place. Victuals of. 
all sorts is provided. You can do as you like about liquor. 

I keeps a keg of rum on board, and I likes my glass at 
night; if you likes to join me at that you can pay for half 
the keg, it has not been broached yet. If you want to 
drink more nor two glasses a night, ye had best get in yer 
own stock; if ye don’t want to touch it at all, just leave it.” 

Frank said he liked a glass of grog at night, and should 
be glad to join in the cask, and that he would do his best 
to keep his side of the cabin as tidy as the other. In a* 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


85 


few minutes the negro brought in the meal, which consisted 
of a steak fried with onions, followed by a large bowl of 
oatmeal, with a jug of molasses, and the whole was washed 
down with tea. 

“The stream does not seem to run very rapidly,” Frank 
said, as he and his companion, having lit their pipes, sat 
down on the deck above. 

“It varies,” Hiram* replied; “sometimes it’s sluggish, as 
you see it here, sometimes it runs like a mill-stream. The 
art of sailing here is to know the river; for what with its 
back currents and its eddies, its channels behind islands 
and its sandbanks, one who knows it can manage to make 
his way up, while one who didn’t know would be drifting 
backward instead of getting forward. That’s what you 
have got to learn. Fortunately the wind generally blows 
up the stream; when it don’t it’s a. case of down anchor. 
There are places where one can hardly get along unless the 
wind happens to be unusually strong, and there I generally 
get a tow. The boss has got about twenty steamers on the 
river, so we don’t generally have to wait many hours before 
one comes along. The tugs is gradually doing away with sail- 
ing boats, and in time there won’t be many of our kind of 
craft left; but they are useful, yon see, for small places 
where the steamers don’t stop, and foi^ the rivers which 
run into the Mississippi.” 

The next morning at daybreak the sail was hoisted, the 
hawsers thrown off from the shore, and the flat made her 
way up the river. Frank was surprised to see how fast 
she sailed, although the wind was but light. The work 
was easy, for the wind was steady and they seldom sailed 
at night, the wind generally dropping at sundown. They 
touched at numerous little settlements, and gradually got 
rid of the cargo with which they had started. 

Sometimes they left the main river and sailed for many 
miles by narrow channels, where the current, for the most 


86 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


part, was almost imperceptible. They were more than a 
month from the time they started before they reached the 
spot at which they were to take in the cargo for their 
return voyage. The flat was then loaded up with grain, 
which was put in in bulk and covered with tarpaulin; the 
boat was now laden down nearly to the water’s edge. 

The downward voyage differed widely from that up the 
river; the sail was now seldom used, and instead of skirt- 
ing the shores they kept in mid-channel, from time to 
time directing the boat’s course by the use of the sweeps. 
The moon was nearly full when they started, and they 
continued their voyage by night as well as day. Hiram 
and Frank took it by turns to be on watch; but the former 
was seldom down below, except on the rare occasions when 
the river was free from shoals. 

Frank had by this time learned by the ripples on the 
water to detect the shallows, and could direct the course 
without assistance; but as soon as the splash of oars was 
heard on the water, Hiram was sure to appear on deck, 
however short the time since he had retired to rest. 

“ You are seeing the river at its best,” he was saying one 
day. “It is about half-full now; when the water’s low, 
the channel where we can pass loaded is often only fifty 
yards wide, with the water running through it like a sluice. 
When the water is in flood there is no fear of shoals, but 
you lfave got to look about, for it is full of floating trees 
and logs; when these get stuck we call them snags, and if 
you were to run on one of them the chances are it would 
knock a hole as big as a cask in her bottom, and down you 
would go in two or three minutes.” 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


87 


CHAPTER VII. 

OK THE MISSISSIPPI. 

“We are going to have a change of weather, I reckon,” 
Hiram said one afternoon as they were drifting down the 
stream during their second voyage. “ You have been lucky 
since we started, but we are going to have a change at 
last; and I can tell you when it blows here it’s a caution. 
They have been having a lot of rain up the country, for 
the river has been rising regular for the last ten days. We 
had best make fast for the night, and the sooner we does 
it the better, for the wind is getting up fast and the rain 
is just a-going to begin.” 

In a quarter of an hour the boat was moored to a great 
tree at the lower end of an island. 

“We shall be snug here,” he said, “and out of the way 
of the drift that will be coming down presently. You can 
turn in and take a long spell of sleep to-night, for some- 
times those storms last for days when they come on this 
time of year, and you will see there will be a sea on that 
the boat could hardly live in. I wish we had stopped two 
hours ago; there was a creek where we could have run her 
in and been snug all through it, but I didn’t think it was 
coming up so quick, and it’s too far on to the next place 
to risk it; however, I expect we shall do very well here.” 

In another half-hour the gale burst upon them furiously, 
and Frank congratulated himself that the boat was snugly 
moored. The thick muddy water of the river was speedily 
lashed into angry waves; the rain, came doAvn in torrents, 
and although the left-hand bank waf6 but a quarter of a 


88 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


mile distant it was soon lost to view. Frank was glad to 
leave the deck and crawl into the little cabin, and sit down 
to a hot meal which the negro cook had prepared. 

“Better here than outside, my lad,” Hiram said. “I 
can go as wet as any man if need be, but I like to keep a 
dry jacket when I can. The wind is just howling outside. 
I reckon this is going to be a bigger storm nor ordinary, 
and I have seen some biggish storms on the Mississippi too. 
I have had some narrer escapes of it, I can tell you, special 
in the days before there was nary a tug on the river, and 
we had to row or pole all the way up; besides there ain’t 
so many trees brought down as there used to be in a flood, 
seeing as the country is getting more and more cleared 
every day. 

“I reckon the time will come when you will he able to 
go up either the Mississippi or Missouri to the upper 
waters without seeing a tree drifting down, and when there 
won’t he a snag in their beds. I mind. the time when the 
snags were ten times worse than they is now. I mind once we 
ran on one of the darned things in pretty nigh as- wild a night 
as this is going to be. I had six hands along with me, and 
we wanted to get down, ’cause we knew the old man would 
have a cargo ready for us, and we wanted a run of a day or 
two on shore at Orleans before we started up again, so we 
held pn. The wind was higher than we reckoned on, and 
we was just saying we should have done better to tie up, 
when there was a crash. I thought at first that she would 
have gone over with the shock, but she didn’t — not that it 
would have made much odds, for there was a snag through 
her bottom, and the water pouring in like a sluice. It was 
darkish, but we could make out there was some trees a 
boat’s-length or two ahead which had been caught as they 
rolled down by another snag, and hung there. The boat 
didn’t float more than a minute after she struck, and then 
we were all in the river, those who couldn’t swim gripping 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


89 


hold of the oars and poles; half a minute and we were all 
clinging to the boughs, and hoisting ourselves as well as 
might be clear of the water. 

“I tell you, lad, that was a night. It wasn’t that we 
was drenched to the skin with the rain pouring down, and 
the wind cutting through us — that kind of thing comes 
natural to a boatman — but it was the oncertainty of the 
thing. The trees moved and swayed with the waves and 
current; the flood we knew was rising still, and any 
moment they might break away from the snag and go 
whirling along, over and over, down the river. Even if 
they didn’t break away of theirselves, another tree might 
drive down on us, and if it did, the chances was strong as 
the hull affair would break loose. 

“All that night and all next day we hung on, and then 
the wind went down a bit, and a nigger who had made us 
out from the shore came off in a dug-out and took us 
ashore in two trips. That war a close shave. The wind 
was northerly and bitter cold, and I don’t believe as we 
could have hung on another night more nor that. Next 
morning, when we turned out from the nigger’s hut to have 
a look round, there wasn’t no sign of them thar trees, they 
had just gone down the river in the night. Yes, I have 
had a good many narrow shaves of it, but I do think as 
that war the narrowest.” 

“Well, I am heartily glad,” Frank said, “that we are 
tied safely up, out of the way of floating trees, snags, or 
anything of the kind. I always like hearing the wind 
when I am snug, and I shall sleep sound knowing that I 
am not going to hear your shout of ‘Watch on deck’ in my 
ear.” 

In spite of the howling of the gale Frank slept soundly. 
But he could scarcely believe that it was broad daylight 
when he awoke; the light was dim and leaden, and when 
he went out from the cabin he was startled at the aspect 


90 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


of the river. The waves had risen until it resembled an 
angry sea, the yellow masses of water being tipped with 
foam; the clouds hung so low that they almost touched 
the top of the trees; the rain was still falling, and the 
drops almost hurt from the violence with which they were 
driven by the wind. The river had risen considerably dur- 
ing the night, and the lower end of the island was already 
submerged; boughs of trees and driftwood were hurrying 
along with the stream, and more than one great tree passed, 
now lifting an arm high in the air, now almost hidden in 
the waves, as it turned over and over in its rapid course. 
Frank felt glad indeed that the boat lay in comparatively 
sheltered waters, though even here the swell caused her at 
times to roll violently. 

“What do you think of it, lad?” Hiram, who had risen 
some time before Frank, asked. 

“It is a wonderfully wild scene,” Frank said enthusias- 
tically, “a grand scene! I should not have had an idea 
that such a sea could have got up on any river. Look at 
that great tree rolling down, it looks as if it was wrestling 
for life.” 

“The wrestle is over, lad, there ain’t no more life for 
that tree; it will just drift along till it either catches on a 
sandbank and settles down as a snag, or it will drift down 
to the mouth of the Mississippi, and maybe help to choke 
up some of the shallow channels, or it may chance to strike 
the deep channel, and go away right out into the Gulf of 
Florida, and then the barnacles will get hold of it, and it 
will drift and drift till at last it will get heavier than the 
water, and then down it will go to the bottom and lie there 
till there ain’t no more left of it. No, lad, there ain’t no 
more life for that tree.” 

“Maybe it -will wash ashore near the city, or some 
plantation,” Frank said, “and be hauled up and cut into 
timber, or perhaps into firewood. After all, the useful 
life of a tree begins with its fall,” 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR . 


91 


“Right yon are, lad; yes, that might happen, and I am 
glad you put it in my mind, for somehow I have always 
had a sorter pity for a tree when I see it sweeping down in 
a flood like this. Somehow it’s like looking at a drowned 
man; but, as you say, there’s a chance of its getting 
through it and coming to he of use after all, and what can 
a tree wish better than that? But we had best be hauling 
the boat up to the tree and shifting the rope up the trunk 
a bit; it's just level with the water now, and was nigh 
eight feet above when we tied it yesterday. I tell you if 
this goes on there will be some big floods, for it will try 
the levees, and if they go there ain’t no saying what dam- 
age may be done in the plantations.” 

All day the wind blew with unabated fury, and when 
evening came on Frank thought that it was increasing rather 
than diminishing in force. 

“Let’s have a glass of grog and tumble in, my lad,” 
Hiram said, “ it gives one the dismals to listen to the wind.” 
They had scarcely wrapped themselves in their blankets 
when the boat swayed as if struck by an even stronger 
blast than usual; then there was a sudden crash, which 
rose even above the howling of the gale. 

“What’s that?” Frank exclaimed, sitting up. 

“It’s the tree,” Iliram began; but while the words were 
in his mouth there was a shock and a crash, the roof of the 
little cabin was stove in, and the boat heeled over until they 
thought it was going to capsize. Frank was thrown on to 
the floor with the violence of the shock, but speedily gained 
his feet. 

“What has happened?” he exclaimed. 

“The tree has gone,” Hiram said; “I have been looking 
at it all the afternoon, but I didn’t want to scare you by 
telling you as I thought it might go. It’s lucky it didn’t 
fall directly on us, or it would have knocked the boat into 
pieces. The door is jammed. Get hold of that hatchet. 


92 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


lad, and make a shift to get your head out to look round 
and see what we are doing. Do you hear them niggers 
holloaing like so many tom-cats? What good do they^ 
suppose that will do?” 

“I can’t see anything,” Frank said when he looked out; 
“it’s pitch dark. I will make this hole a bit bigger, and 
then I will take the lantern and crawl forward and see 
what has become of the blacks. I am afraid the tree has 
stove the boat in; look at the water coming up through 
the float-boards.” 

“Ay, I expect she is smashed somewhere; it could hardly 
be otherwise; I reckon this is going to be about as bad a 
job as the one I was telling you about. Here, lad, put this 
bottle of rum into your jacket and this loaf of bread; I 
will take this here chunk of cold beef; like enough we may 
want ’em afore we are done.” 

When Frank had enlarged the hole sufficiently to allow 
his body to pass through, he put the lantern through and 
then crawled out. He was in a tangle of branches and 
leaves. The head-rope was a long one; the tree had fallen 
directly toward them, and the boat was, as far as Frank 
could see, wedged in between the branches, which forked 
some forty feet above the roots; a cross branch had stove 
in the cabin top, and another rested across the scuttle of 
the cabin used by the negroes. 

“Hand me the axe, sharp, Hiram,” he said; “the 
niggers can’t get out, and our bow isn’t a foot out of 
water.” 

Hiram handed up the axe, seized another, and with a 
great etfort squeezed himself through the hole and joined 
Frank in the fore-part of the boat, which was waist-deep 
in water. 

“Never mind the branch, lad, that will take too long to 
cut through, and another two ofr three minutes will do 
their business; here, rip, off two or three of those planks, 
that will be the quickest way.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


93 


Although impeded in their work by the network of 
houghs, they speedily got off two or three planks and 
hauled up the frightened negroes. It was but just in time, 
for there were but a few inches between the water and the 
top of the low cabin. 

“ Shut your mouths and drop that howling,” Hiram said, 
“and grip hold of the tree; the boat will sink under our 
feet in another minute. Stick to your lantern, lad, a light 
is a comfort anyhow ; I’ll fetch another from the cabin, 
and some candles; I know just where they are and can 
feel them in the water.” 

In a minute he rejoined Frank, who was sitting astride 
of one of the branches. 

“That’s a bit of luck,” he said; “ the candles are dry. 
There ain’t more than two feet of water in her aft.” 

Three or four minutes passed, and the boat still lay 
beneath their feet, sinking, apparently, no lower. “ I will 
look round again,” Hiram said; “it seems to me as she has 
got jammed, and won’t go any lower.” 

Examining the boat, he found that it was so; she was so 
completely wedged among the branches that she could sink 
no lower. 

“It’s all right,” he said joyously. “Jump down, all of 
you, and lend a hand and unreeve the halliards from the 
mast and bind her as tight as you can to the branches; 
pass the ropes under the thwarts. Make haste before she 
shakes herself free.” For the tree, now well clear of the 
shelter of the land, was swaying heavily. 

The work was soon done, and the boat securely fastened 
to the tree. 

“How is it the tree lies steady without rolling over and 
over, Hiram?” Frank asked, after they paused on the com- 
pletion of the work. 

“I reckon it’s the boat as keeps it steady, lad. As long 
as she lies here she is no weight, but she would be a big 


94 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


weight to lift out of water, and I reckon she keeps the 
whole affair steady. It couldn’t be better if we had 
planned it. All these boughs break the force of the 
waves, and keep off a good bit of the wind too; we ain’t 
going to do badly after all. 

“Pete, get me that half-bottle of rum from my locker 
and a tin mug. That is right. Now here is a good strong 
tot each for you to make your faces black again; you were 
white with fear when we got you out of that cabin, and 
I don’t blame you; I should have been in just as bad a 
fright myself if I had been there, though I shouldn’t have 
made such a noise over it. Still, one can’t expect men of 
one color to have the same ways as those of another, and 
I am bound to say that if the boat had gone down your 
boss would have lost four good pieces of property. Feel 
more comfortable —eh ?” 

The negroes grinned assent. Easily cast down, their 
spirits were as easily raised, and seeing that the white men 
appeared to consider tha N t there was no urgent danger, they 
soon plucked up their courage. 

“I think,” Frank said, “the best thing will be to man- 
age to get the cabin door open. We can put a tarpaulin 
over the hole in the roof, and we shall then have a shelter 
we can go into; the water is not over the lockers, but I 
shouldn’t like to go in until we get the door open. If this 
tree did take it into its head to turn round, it would be 
awkward if there were two or three of us in there, with 
only that hole to scramble through.” 

“You are about right, lad; it will be a sight more com- 
fortable than sitting here, for what with the rain and the 
splashing up of this broken water one might as well be 
under a pump.” 

The axes were called into requisition again, for the door 
>vas jammed too firmly to be moved. 

“ Chop it up, and shove the pieces under the tarpaulin, 


V APT AIR BAYLBY'S HEIR. 


§5 


Sam ; they will get a hit drier there, and we may want 
them for a fire presently; there is no saying how long we may 
he in this here floating forest. That’s right. Now, hang 
one of them lanterns up in the cabin. That’s not so bad. 
Now, lad, our clothes-bags are s all right on these hooks. 
I am just going to rig myself up in a dry shirt and jacket, 
and advise you to do the same; we may as well have the 
upper half dry if we must be wet below.” 

Frank was glad to follow Hiram’s example, and a dry 
flannel shirt made him feel thoroughly warm and comfort- 
able. He handed a shirt to each of the negroes, and the 
whole party, clustered in the little cabin, were soon com- 
paratively warm and cheerful, in spite of the water, which 
came up to their knees, and when the boat rose on a wave, 
swashed up over the locker on which they were sitting. 

A supply of dry tobacco and some pipes were produced 
by Hiram, and the little cabin was soon thick with smoke. 

“Taking it altogether,” Hiram said,“ I regard this as 
about the queerest sarcumstance that ever happened to 
me; it was just a thousand to one that tree would have 
smashed us up and sunk us then and thar. It was 
another thousand to one that when we were staved in we 
shouldn’t have got fixed so that the boat couldn’t sink; if 
any one had told it me as a yarn I should not have believed 
it.” 

“It has indeed been a wonderful escape,” Frank said, 
“and I think now that we should be ungrateful indeed if 
every one of us did not fervently thank God for having 
preserved us.” 

“Eight you are, lad; praying ain’t much in my way — 
not regular praying; but we men as lives a life like this, 
and knows that at any moment a snag may go through the 
boat’s bottom, thinks of these things at times, and knows 
that our lives are in God’s hands. It ain’t in nature to 
go up and down this broad river, special at night, when 


06 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


the stars are shining overhead, and the dark woods are as 
quiet as death, and there ain’t no sound to be heard but 
the lap of the water against the bow for a man not to have 
serious thoughts. It ain’t our way to talk about it. I 
think we try to do our duty by our employers, and if a 
mate is laid np, he need never fear getting on a shoal for 
want of a helping hand; and when our time comes, I fancy 
as there ain’t many of us as is af eared of death, or feels 
very bad about the account they say we have got to render 
arterward. It’s different with the niggers; it’s their way 
to be singing hymns and having prayer-meetings, and such 
like. There is some as is agin this, and says it gives ’em 
notions, and sets them agin their masters; but I don’t see 
it; it pleases ’em, and it hurts no one; it’s just the differ- 
ence of ways. I expect it comes to the same in the end; 
leastways, I have seen many a wreck in this here river, 
when whites and blacks have been a-looking death in the 
face together, and sartin the white man, even if he has 
been a hard man, ain’t no more afraid to die than the 
black, generally just the contrary. That’s my notion of 
things.” 

Frank nodded, and for a time there was silence in the 
cabin. 

“ How long are we likely to be in this fix?” Frank asked 
presently. 

“Thar ain’t no saying; supposing we don’t bring up 
agin a snag — which the Lord forbid, or like, enough, the 
tree would shift its position, and we should find ourselves 
bottom upward if we did — we may drift on for days and 
days. Still, we shall be safe to make ourselves seen as 
soon as the weather clears, and there are boats out again; 
we have only got to light a fire of wet wood to call their 
attention. I don’t expect this here gale will last much 
longer; after another day it ought to begin to blow itself 
out. As long as nothing happens to this tree, and the 


OAPTAlN BA Y LET'S HElR. 


M 

boat keeps fast where it is, there ain’t nothing to make our- 
selves uncomfortable about. We’d best have a look at 
them lashings; I tell you, there is a tidy strain on them.” 

Examining the ropes carefully, they found some of them 
were already chafed, and, dragging out a piece of wet 
canvas from the lockers, they cut it into strips and lashed 
it round the ropes at the points where they were chafing. 
The strain was indeed very heavy, for the tree and the 
waterlogged boat rose but little with the waves, and the 
bow was submerged deeply every time a wave passed them, 
the gunwale being at no time more than a few inches out 
of water. Additional lashings were put on, and then 
Hiram and Frank returned to the cabin, and the latter 
dozed away the hours till morning, as did the negroes, 
Hiram remaining wide awake and watchful, and going out 
from time to time to look at the lashings. As soon as day 
broke Frank roused himself and went out; Hiram was just 
descending from one of the boughs. 

“I have had a look round,” he said; “I don’t think it’s 
blowing quite so hard, but thar ain’t much change yet. 
It ain’t not to say a cheerful kind of lookout.” 

Frank climbed up to take a view for himself, but he was 
glad to return very quickly to the shelter of the cabin. 
Overhead was a canopy of low gray cloud; around, a cur- 
tain of driving rain; below, a chaos of white-headed waves. 
The day passed slowly, and with little change. Sam found 
in the fore-part of the boat the iron plate on which he built 
his fire. They fixed this on the roof of the cabin, fastened 
a tarpaulin across the boughs so as to shelter it from the 
rain and drift, and then, with some difficulty, managed to 
make a fire. Some hot coffee was first prepared, and a 
frying-pan was then put on and filled with slices of pork. 
The flour was wet, but Sam made some flat cakes of the 
wet dough, and placed them in the fat to fry when the 
pork was done. 


98 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


“Not adbad meal that,” Hiram said, when he had fin* 
islied, “for a floating forest.” 

The negroes had now completely recovered from the 
effects of their fright and wetting, and their spirits, as 
usual, found vent in merry choruses. 

“Just like children, ain’t they?” Hiram said, as he and 
Frank re-entered the cabin, while the negroes continued to 
feast overhead, “crying one moment and laughing the next. 
But I have known some good uns among them too, as good 
mates to work with as a man could want, and as good grit 
as a white man.” Another meal, later in the afternoon, 
alone broke the monotony of the day. The aspect of the 
weather was unchanged at nightfall, but Hiram asserted that 
the wind had certainly gone down, and that in the morning 
there would probably be a break in the weather. They 
smoked for some time, and then the negroes dozed off, with 
their chins on their chests; and Frank was about to make 
an effort to do the same, when Hiram, who had been going 
in and out several times, said suddenly, “ I reckon we are 
out of the main stream; don’t you feel the difference?” 

Now that his attention was called to it, Frank wondered 
that he had not noticed it before. The waves were no 
longer washing over the fore-part of the boat, and the 
sluggish efforts of the tree and boat to rise and fall with 
the water had ceased. He was still more struck, when he 
went outside, by the comparative silence. The wind still 
whistled overhead and swayed the branches, but the hiss 
and rustle of the water had ceased. 

“We are out of the main stream, that’s sartin,” Hiram 
said, “though where we are is more nor I can tell till we 
get daylight.” 

Frank took the lantern and climbed up the bough which 
served as a lookout. It was pitch dark outside, and the 
surface of the water was no longer broken by white heads. 

“Yes, we are certainly out of the main river, Hiram, 


CAPTAIN BA YLET HEIR . 99 

and in behind some big islands. Where do you think it 
could be?” 

“I reckon, lad, we are somewhere down near the mouth 
of the Arkansas. The stream has been running mighty 
strong for the last two days, and the wind, catching all 
these branches, must have helped us along a good bit. I 
reckon we can’t be far away from the Arkansas. It’s a 
bad stroke of luck drifting in here, we may expect to get 
hung up somewhere, and we shall be in a nice fix then, out 
of sight of boats going up and down, and with miles, and 
miles of swamp stretching back from the shore. However, 
it will be time to think of that to-morrow. There ain’t 
nothing for us to do; just lend us a hand, and we will get 
this iron plate off the roof. The tarpaulin keeps oil the 
rain, and I will fetch a couple of blankets, and we can 
stretch ourselves out here; I despise going to sleep sitting 
up.” 

Frank was sound asleep in a few minutes. He had a 
confused notion of feeling a slight jerking motion, and of 
hearing Hiram say, “There, she is anchored;” but he did 
not suffer this to rouse him, and, dropping off, slept 
soundly till morning. At the first stir Hiram made he was 
awake. 

“We have had a goodish spell of sleep, I reckon, lad, 
and I feel all the better for having had my legs stretched 
out straight.” 

“So do I, ever so much; the wind seems to hafe gone 
quite down, and it has stopped raining.” 

“We shall have the sun up soon.” 

Frank was soon up in the lookout. 

“I can see trees on both sides of us, but I can make out 
nothing more than that; there’s a mist hanging over them, 
though it’s clear enough on the water. We are not 
moving.” 

“I could have told you that,” Hiram said, “didn’t w 
get fast on something before we went to sleep last night?” 


100 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


“Oh, I forgot about that; I was just off when yon spoke 
and didn’t quite take it in. We are quite out of the cur- 
rent; the water is moving very sluggishly past us.” 

“So much the worse, lad; that’s just what I fancied. 
We have got blown out of the stream, and got in behind 
some of the islands, and are perhaps at the mouth of one 
of the loops where there ain’t no stream to speak of; use- 
ful enough they are when you are making your way up- 
stream, but no-account places to get stuck in. Now you 
darkeys below there, wake up, and let’s have some food; 
you will soon have the sun up to warm you and dry your 
clothes a bit. By the time we have had our breakfast,” he 
went on to Frank, “the mist will have lifted, and we shall 
have some chance of seeing where we have been cast away, 
and can talk over what’s the best thing to be done in this 
here business.” 

The iron plate was replaced on the cabin, the fire was 
lit, and coffee and fried bacon were soon ready. The first 
sparkle of the sun through the leaves brought a shout of 
delight from the negroes, and directly the meal was over 
they cut away some of the small branches and let the sun 
stream in on to the roof of the cabin. 

“That’s enough, boys,” Hiram said; “by midday we 
shall be glad of the shade. Now, let you and I light our 
pipes, lad, and take a survey, and then talk this job 
over.” 

On looking round, they found that the passage, or creek, 
in which they were was some eighty yards wide; ahead it 
seemed to narrow; behind them, a bend shut out the view 
a quarter of a mile away. 

“ That’s just what I expected. You see we have drove in 
here, and there’s been just current enough to drift us on till 
the lower branches touched the bottom or caught in a snag; 
the water ain’t flowing half a mile an hour now, and I 
reckon when the water begins to drop, which will be in a 


CAPTAIN P At LEY *3 HEIR. 


101 


few days, if it holds fine, there won’t be no current to 
speak of.” 

“But we are not going to stay here a few days, are we, 
Hiram?” 

“Well, lad, I ain’t no particular wish to stay here no 
time at all, if you will just pint out the way for us to be 
moving on.” 

“ Well, we could all swim ashore,” Frank said; “the dis- 
tance is nothing, and all the blacks swim.” 

“And how fur do you reckon the shore to be, lad?” 

“About forty yards,” Frank said. 

“ I reckon it to be miles, lad— twenty, perhaps, or forty 
for aught I know.” Frank looked at his companion in 
surprise. 

“ Yes, that is about it, lad. Don’t you see them trees 
are all growing out by the water, and what looks to you like 
low bush is just the top of the underwood. The river, I 
reckon, must have riz twenty feet, and all this low land is 
under water. As I told you, we are near the mouth of the 
Arkansas, and for miles and miles the country ain’t much 
better than a swamp at the best of times. You can swim 
to them trees, and roost up in the branches, if the fancy 
takes yer, and maybe we may decide that’s the best thing 
to do, when we have talked it over; but as to getting to 
land, you may put that notion out of your head altogether. 
I told you, lad, last night, I didn’t like the lookout, and I 
don’t like it a bit better this morning, except that I look 
to be dry and comfortable in another hour. What’s to 
come after that I don’t quite see.” 

Frank was silent. The prospect, now that he under- 
stood it, was unpleasant indeed. There they were with a 
disabled and waterlogged boat, in the middle of a district 
submerged for many miles, and surrounded beyond that by 
fever-stricken swamps, while the prospect of any craft 
happening to come along was remote indeed. For some 
minutes he smoked his pipe in silence. 


102 CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S HEIR. 

“You consider it impossible for ns to make onr escape 
through the wood.” 

“Just impossible, lad. We might make our way from 
tree to tree, like a party of monkeys, but we should get to 
creeks where we couldn’t cross; we should be half our 
time swimming. We could take no food to speak of with 
us; we should get lost in the swamps, if ever we got 
through the forest. No, lad; my present idea is it is 
impossible, though, if we detarmines at last there ain’t 
nothing else for us to do but to try for it, Hiram Little 
ain’t the man to die without making a hard fight for his 
life; but I tell you, lad, I looks on it as impossible. You 
have been on these banks with me, and you know how thick 
the trees and bushes grow, so that a snake could hardly 
make his way through them. When the river is at her 
level the ground ain’t about a foot or two out of water, 
and when the river falls — and it mayn’t fall to its level for 
weeks — it will just be a swamp of mud.” 

“Well, in that case,” Frank said, “it seems to me that 
our only chance is to repair the boat.” 

“That’s just my idea, young fellow. There is a biggish 
hole on each side, the ribs are smashed in, and a lot of 
damage is done, but we could make a shift to mend it if we 
could get her ashore; but there ain’t no shore to get her 
to, that’s the mischief of it; besides, here we are stuck, and 
if we were to cut away the tree to loose her she would go 
straight to the bottom.” 

“ Yes, we mustn’t cut her loose before we are alongside 
something. My idea is that if we first of all cut off all the 
boughs that are above us, close to the trunk, that will 
make a good deal of difference in the weight, and we should 
float higher. Then, with hatchet and saw, we must get 
rid of those below, taking a rope first to the trees and haul- 
ing her closer and closer alongside them as we get rid of 
the weight, till at last there is only the trunk and these 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


103 


two great arms that have nipped her. I think that way 
we might get alongside the trees.” 

“I reckon we might, lad. Yes, I don’t see much diffi- 
culty about that. And what shall we do when we get 
there?” 

“ I should get under a big tree, like that one over there, 
with that great arm stretching over the stream. We’ve 
got plenty of ropes, and I should fasten them from her 
bow and stern, and from her thwarts, tight to that arm 
overhead. When I got her fixed, I would chop away one 
of these arms that grip her, and let her float free. We 
have no tackle that would be of any use in hoisting her, 
but if we take the plug out of her bottom, she will empty 
as the river sinks, and hang there. Once she is in the air 
there will be no difficulty in patching her up.” 

“That’s a capital idee, young fellow,” Hiram exclaimed, 
giving Frank a mighty pat on the shoulder. “ I do believe 
it is to be done that way. I tell you, I did not see my 
way out of this fix nohow, but you have hit upon it, by 
gosh ! Here, you darkies, get them axes and saws out of 
the cabin, and clear away this forest.” 

An hour’s work cleared away all the wood above water. 

The sun was by this time well above the trees; the 
negroes woke up to life and cheerfulness in its warmth, 
and worked vigorously. 

“Before we do anything more,” Frank said, “I will 
swim with a light line to that tree, and then haul the tow- 
rope after me, and make it fast to it; it is possible that 
when we cut away some of the other boughs the whole 
affair may turn over and sink, but if the tow-rope is fast 
we may be able to drag it alongside.” 

When the rope was attached to the tree, they proceeded 
with their work. The two great arms were chopped 
through just beyond the point at which the boat was 
wedged,- thus getting rid of the whole of the upper part of 
the tree, 


104 


CAPTAIN BAT LEY'S HEIR. 


“She’s free now,” Hiram said. “Stand in the middle 
of the boat, you boys; I can feel that a very little would 
sway her over now.” 

The bow sank some inches, and fully half the boat was 
submerged. 

“Now, you and I will get out at this end of the trunk, 
lad, and tow her in, stern foremost.” 

They got within ten yards of the tree before she again 
stuck, and it took them some hours’ work to cut away the 
branch which projected under water; but at last this was 
done and the boat was placed in position under the arm of 
the great tree they had pitched upon, and a number of 
ropes fastened firmly to the arm. 

“Now we will have some dinner,” Hiram said; “and 
while Pete is cooking it we will get ashore with the saw and 
cut the heads off of some these small trees, and fasten them 
to this trunk, so as to make a sort of raft that we can put 
all these tubs on. The ropes would never hold her with 
her cargo on board. I reckon some of the sugar is spoiled; 
but the boss always has good casks, and maybe there ain’t 
much damage done. The rum is right enough, and I 
reckon there won’t be much spoiled except them bales of 
calico.” 

They worked hard, but it was late in the evening before 
the raft was formed and the cargo all shifted into it. 

“Now, we will just chop off this arm and free her,” 
Hiram said, “and then we can stretch ourselves out for 
the night. We have done a tidy day’s work, I reckon, 
and have arned our sleep.” 

The arm was chopped through, and the boat was freed 
from the tree which had, in the first place, so nearly 
destroyed it, but which, in the end, had proved their 
means of safety. The raft was fastened alongside by a 
rope, and the negroes betook themselves to it for the 
night, while the two white men, as before, lay down to 
sleep on the cabin-top. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


105 


CHAPTER VIII. 

STARTING FOR THE WEST. 

The next morning they found, to their satisfaction, 
that the river had sunk nearly a foot. The boat had risen 
considerably when the cargo had been removed the evening 
before, and the ropes overhead had been proportionately 
tightened so that she now hung so high that the rents 
were well out of water, and they were able at once to set 
about the work of repair. There were tools on board, for 
during their prolonged trips it was often necessary to 
execute repairs of one kind or other. The flooring-boards 
were utilized for the repairs, and by evening the holes 
were closed effectually. 

The next day the work was strengthened by additional 
ribs and stringers, a coat of pitch was put on outside and 
in, and Hiram pronounced the work complete. From time 
to time the ropes had been loosened as the river continued 
to fall, although less rapidly, and it was thought well not 
to put too great a strain upon them. The next morning 
the plug was again driven into the bottom of the boat, and 
they set to work to pump and bale her out, and then 
shifted the cargo back again from the raft. This was not 
a long job, and at night, after a great washing-up of the 
cabins, to get rid of the mud that had been left there, 
they had the satisfaction of taking possession of their old 
quarters. 

“Well, lad,” Hiram said, when they lighted their pipes 
after supper, “I never thought we were coming so well out 
of that job. With plenty of rice and sugar, not to speak 


106 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY\S HEIR. 


of rum, on board, I didn’t expect we war going to starve, 
but I thought we might have been weeks and weeks — ay, 
months, maybe — before any one came along, and the 
thought as came into my mind was as we should have to 
make a raft and pole along till we got out into the river 
again. However, here we are, with the boat not much the 
worse, and everything on* board ready for a start in the 
morning; and it’s thanks to you as we have done it, for I 
am free to say as I don’t think as I should have hit on this 
plan as we have carried out. You are a good mate to work 
with, lad, and no mistake. I don’t wish never to get a 
better. It’s a pity ye don’t mean to stick to it for good, 
for I can swar that you would make one of the best hands 
on the Mississippi, in time.” 

The journey down the river was continued next morning. 
At the first place they stopped at they heard reports of 
widespread damage, of great tracts submerged, and of dan- 
ger to life; the river was still at full flood, although it had 
fallen two feet from its highest level, and the next ten 
days were spent in rescuing the unfortunate people from 
the tops of the houses, trees, and patches of rising ground 
on which they had taken refuge. Then, having done all 
they were able, and the river having now fallen nearly to 
its average level, they continued their voyage down to New 
Orleans. 

Hiram, in his report of the voyage to his employer, 
spoke in high terms of Frank’s conduct, and ascribed to 
his quickness of invention their escape from what seemed 
likely to be an almost endless detention. 

“But I am afraid he has made his last v’yage with me,” 
he said; “he is talking of striking out across the plains to 
Californy. There was a good talk of gold thar before we 
started; and last night, after we came in, and went in for 
a drink and to hear the news,' there didn’t seem nothing 
else to talk about. The young chap was asking all sorts 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


10? 


of questions, and I expect he’s off; and I don’t know as I 
blames him. He’s the sort of fellow to get on. He has 
plenty of grit; he’s strong and active now, and in a couple 
of years he will widen out and make a very big man. He’s 
had a first-rate edication — he don’t talk about it, but one 
would be blind not to see that — he will make his way 
wherever he goes, and I don’t blame him for striking out 
from the river. He likes the river, too; but it ain’t the 
place for making a fortin, unless you’ve got money at your 
back, as you have, boss. But I don’t know if he had 
money, and could go into steamers and such like, that he 
would stick to it. 

“I don’t know nowt of his history, but I think things 
must have gone hard with him somehow, and he came out 
here for excitement more than for making money. But 
there’s nothing reckless about him; he don’t drink, and 
he don’t gamble, and it says a lot for a young fellow in 
New Orleans that he don’t do one or the other. And he 
can fight, lie can; there ain’t no doubt about that. Why, 
I saw him give the biggest kind of thrashing to the bully 
of a lumber camp, where we moored up alongside one 
night, as ever you seed. The chap was big enough to eat 
him, but he didn’t have no kind of show. The young un 
just hit him where he liked, and in five minutes that 
chap’s face was a thing to see, and the lad never got so 
much as a scratch. I wouldn’t have thought as a man 
could have used his hands like that if I hadn’t been thar. 
I shall be right-down sorry to lose him.” 

“I knew well-nigh when I took him on that he was not 
likely to stay, Hiram ; he said as much. He wanted to get 
to know something about the ways of the country before 
he decided upon anything. If all young fellows would do 
as he did, go to work for a few months, instead of loafing 
about spending their money, and getting into bad ways, 
and among bad fellows, it would be better for them; he 


108 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


has only drawn a few dollars for his expenses — when he 
was down the last time — since he came to work, so he has 
got a good sum due to him. I will have a talk with him 
myself. There are a good many parties starting from here 
and taking the Santa Fe route; but, taking them all in 
all, I don’t think I should recommend him to hang on to 
one of them.” 

“No, I should guess they would be a pretty hard lot who 
would go out from here — gamblers, and horse-thieves, ami 
runaway sailors, and Mexican fighters — neither good to 
travel with or good to work with; he had better go up and 
strike from St. Louis.” 

“ He had better go higher still, Hiram ; there’s a northern 
route, and I hear a lot of the western men are making 
across that. However, I will talk to him.” 

That afternoon Frank went into Mr. Willcox’s little 
office. 

“Hiram has been speaking in very high terms of you, 
and I find that I am indebted to you for the saving of the 
boat, with wdiat cargo she had on hoard, which Hiram 
said he had altogether given up as lost. You seem to have 
been in a position of very great danger, and to have had an 
extraordinary narrow escape of your lives. However, I can 
understand that you are not content to settle down for life 
on the Mississippi, hut I can tell you that with enterprise, 
judgment, and steadiness there is fortune to be made here 
still. I am not surprised that the gold-seeking mania has 
got hold of you.” 

“It is not so much, sir, the gold-seeking mania as the 
excitement attending it. I don’t think I particularly care 
about making money, but I do want the excitement of such 
a life. I have come out for that, and not, as it is generally 
culled, to make my fortune. The course of my life at 
home has been upset by circumstances into which I need 
not enter, and, at any rate for a time, I want action, and 


CAPTAIN BA YLET’S HEIR. 


109 


excitement. After that, perhaps, I may think of settling 
down, and what is called making my way.” 

“I can understand your feeling, lad, and will not try to 
persuade you to stop at this business. And now, what 
route are you thinking of taking across the continent?” 

“I was thinking of joining a party going direct from 
here across to Santa Fe.” 

* “I don’t think that will be a good plan, lad. The cara- 
vans from here are composed, for the most part, of very 
hard characters, the sort of men who would shoot you for 
your horse if they took a fancy to it; I would by no means 
advise you to ally yourself with such men. I can, I think, 
put you in the way of a better plan than that. I find that 
a great number of caravans from the West are going by a 
northern route which crosses the Missouri at a point called 
Omaha. I have been thinking that this will become an 
important place, and have made up my mind to freight 
four or five flats with flour, bacon, and other goods of all 
sorts, and a frame store, and go up to there and open a busi- 
ness. I shall want a handy man with me at first; I shall 
take up a storekeeper to leave there in charge, but at first 
he will want help. If you like to go up in charge of one 
of the scows, and to stay to help put up the store and 
set things running, I will give you a hundred dollars, and 
you can have your passage up for your horse, which I 
should advise you to buy here. You will get one that will 
carry you, though of course not much to look at, for about 
fifty dollars; I know several horse-dealers here, and will 
get one for you if you like. You had also better get a 
stout pony to carry your traps and provisions; that will 
cost about forty dollars. Then you must have a rifle and 
a Colt. These are absolutely necessary for such a journey, 
for I hear that the Indians are very troublesome on the 
plains. These, however, I myself shall have much pleasure 
jn presenting you with, in testimony of the obligation X 


110 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


feel I owe you for saving my boat and goods. The hun- 
dred dollars that are due to you, and the hundred that you 
will further earn at Omaha, will be sufficient for your 
horses and outfit, which will leave this money which you 
placed in my hands untouched. You will find that very 
useful, for you will want to buy a tent and provisions and 
tools out there, and money to keep you till you hit upon 
gold. Well, what do you think of my offer?” 

“I am extremely obliged to you, sir; nothing could suit 
me better. And I am indeed greatly obliged for your kind 
offer of a rifle and revolver; they will certainly be most 
necessary, by what one hears of the journey.” 

“You have some other clothes, I suppose?” 

“Yes, sir; I have another suit in my portmanteau.” 

“Very well, put them on, and come back herd in an 
hour’s time. It will be a week before my steamer starts, 
and you had better come and stop with me till then; it 
will keep you out of mischief, and I should be glad of 
your company.” 

At the appointed time Frank returned to the office, 
dressed in the suit of clothes he had brought with him. 
A light carriage with a pair of horses was standing at the 
door. 

“Ah!” Mr. Willcox laughed as he came out, “I fancy 
you look more like yourself now.” 

Frank took his place in the carriage, Mr. Willcox took 
the reins, the negro servant sprang up behind, and they 
were soon rattling through the streets of the town. 

Mr. Willeox’s house was situated two miles out of the 
city. It was a large building, with a veranda running 
round it, and standing in well-kept and handsome grounds; 
three or four negroes ran out as the carriage drove up. 

“Sam, take this gentleman’s portmanteau upstairs, and 
get a bath ready for him at once, and lay out a suit of 
white clothes for him. 


CAPTAIN PAYLEY'S HE IP. 


Ill 


cc We always have a bath before dinner in this country,” 
lie said to Frank; “one wants to get rid of the dust of the 
day. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.” 

After enjoying a luxurious bath, and attiring himself in 
a suit of snowy-white gear, Frank descended to the dining- 
room. 

Mr. Willcox was a widower, without children, and they 
therefore dined alone. As they were sitting over their 
wine after dinner in the veranda, Frank’s host said, “I 
did not wish to be inquisitive, but if you don’t mind telling 
me, I should like to know why a young fellow like your- 
self should embark upon a life of adventure.” 

Frank had met with such kindness from his employer, 
that he frankly told him the whole history of the events 
which had driven him from England. 

“It is a singular story,” the trader said, “and I own that 
appearances were against you. Of course I don’t know 
him, and maybe misjudge him altogether, but the only 
person who appears to me to have had any interest what- 
ever in getting you into disgrace, and causing you to leave 
the country, is your cousin.” 

“Fred Barkley,” Frank exclaimed, in surprise; “I can 
assure you such an idea never entered my mind ; he is not 
at all a bad fellow, though certainly he is not popular at 
school.” 

“I should prefer taking the general verdict of the school 
to yours,” the trader said; “boys are seldom far out in 
their estimate of persons; they have more instinct than 
men, and a boy is seldom far wrong in his estimate ot 
character. 

“ The fact that he is generally unpopular is, in my mind, 
a proof that there is something wrong about this cousin of 
yours. Then what you tell me, that he refused to lend 
you the money which would have got you out of your 
scrape, while he afterward came forward with twenty 


112 


CAPTAIN PATLET’S HEIR. 


ponncls to enable yon to get away, is another strong point. 
The advice which he gave you was distinctly bad ; for you 
had much better have remained, and to the last have pro- 
tested your innocence. Then there is another point. Did 
I gather from your words that you and he are the nearest 
relations to the wealthy uncle with whom you lived?” 

“Yes, that is so,” Frank replied. 

“Then, in case of your disgrace, it is by no means im- 
probable that your uncle will leave him the whole of the 
money. Is that so?” 

“I have no doubt of it,” Frank assented. 

“ Then you see he has a very strong interest in bringing 
you into discredit. Besides there were only, you say, five 
people who had any knowledge of this affair, and of your 
need for the money. None of the other four had the 
slightest possible interest in bringing you into disgrace; he 
had a very strong interest, and, take my word for it, your 
cousin is at the bottom of the whole affair.” 

“I cannot believe it,” Frank said, rising from his chair 
and pacing up and down the veranda; “if I thought so I 
would return to England by the next ship and have it out 
with him.” 

“But you have no shadow of proof,” Mr. Willcox said, 
“it is a matter of suspicion only. Even had the idea 
occurred to you at first, you would only have injured your- 
self by stating it, for it would have been regarded as a 
hideous aggravation of your crime to bring such a charge 
against your cousin unsupported by a shadow of proof. 
No; now you have taken your line you must go through 
with it, and trust to time to right you. It is a suspicion 
only, but you mark my words, if the mystery is ever solved 
it will be found that your cousin was at the bottom of it.” 

Frank spent a very pleasant week at the charming resi- 
dence of Mr. Willcox. The latter entertained a good deal, 
and Frank met at his house several of the leading mer- 


Captain bayleyb heir. 


113 


chants of New Orleans, and acquired a good deal of knowl- 
edge of the state of the country. Most of them were 
incredulous as to the stories of the abundance of gold in 
California. That gold had been discovered they did not 
deny; but they were of opinion that the find would be an 
isolated one, and that ruin would fall upon the crowds 
who were hastening either across the continent, or by ship 
via Panama, to the new Eldorado. Several of them tried 
to dissuade Frank from his intention of going thither, and 
more than one offered to place him in their counting- 
houses, or to procure him employment of other kind. 

Frank, however, was firm, for he was going, not for the 
sake of making money, but of finding adventure and 
excitement. He went down every day to the wharf and 
superintended the loading of the scows, and at the end of 
ten days he resumed his boatman’s clothes and took his 
place on one of the scows. Hiram accompanied him, with 
eight negroes, two for each flat. A tug took them in tow, 
and they started up the river. Mr. Willcox was to follow 
by a steamer next day, and would arrive at Omaha some 
time before them, and have time to choose and buy a lot 
of land for his store, and to have all in readiness for their 
arrival. Frank had purchased a strong, serviceable horse 
for his own riding, and a pony for his baggage, together 
with blankets and other necessaries for the journey. His 
mining outfit he decided to get at Sacramento, as, although 
the cost would be considerable, he did not wish to encumber 
himself with it on his journey across the plains. The rifle 
and revolver had been presented him by Mr. Willcox, and 
he determined to practice steadily with both on his voyage 
up the river, as his life might depend on his proficiency 
with his weapons. 

The voyage up the Mississippi and Missouri was per- 
formed without any notable adventure, although in the 
little-known waters of the upper river the tug ran several 


114 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


times aground. Those on board the flats had but little to 
do, their duties being confined to pumping out the water 
when there was any leakage; and the negroes had been 
taken up more for the purpose of unloading the cargo, 
carrying it to its destination, and putting up the store, 
than for any service they could render on the voyage. 
Frank, who had laid in a large store of ammunition for the 
purpose, amused himself by practicing with his pistol at a 
bottle towed behind the scow, or with his rifle at floating 
objects in the stream, in feeding and taking care of his 
horses, and in listening to many yarns from Hiram. 

“I can tell you, lad,” the latter said one day, when, after 
passing St. Louis, they had entered the waters of the 
Missouri, “ thar have been changes on this river since I was 
a youngster. I was raised at St. Louis, which was not 
much more than a frontier town in those days, and most 
of the work lay below; here and there was a farm on the 
Missouri, but they got thinner as they got higher up, and 
long before we got to where we are going it was all Indian 
country. I used to go up sometimes with traders, but I 
never liked the job; first I didn’t like selling ‘fire-water,’ 
as they called it, to the Indians, for it made them mad, 
and brought on quarrels and wars; in the next place, it was 
a dangerous business. The Indians used to meet the 
traders at some place they had appointed beforehand, and 
there would be big feastings; sometimes the traders would 
come back with the boat loaded up with buffalo robes and 
skins, and Indian blankets, and such like; once or twice 
they didn’t come back at all, and it was just a mercy that 
I didn’t stay behind with them on one of the trips. 

“ I went up with a trading party to a place somewhere 
near this Omaha; we had three boats, with six voyagers in 
each. I was about five-and-twenty then, and was steers- 
man of one of them. There were 'four traders; they were 
in my boat, and they played cards and drank all the way 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. H5 

lip. One of the boats was a flat — not a flat like this, but 
just a big flat-bottomed boat, for they were going, as I 
understood, to get some good horses from the Indians and 
take them down to St. Louis. We had pretty hard work 
getting her along, and a weak crew would never have got 
her against the stream, though of course we chose a time 
when the river was low and there wasn’t much stream on. 
Sometimes we rowed, sometimes we poled, keeping along 
the shallows and back waters; and, though the pay was 
good, I wasn’t sorry when we got to the place appointed; 
not only because the work was hard, but because I didn’t 
like the ways of them traders, with their gambling, and 
drinking, and quarreling. However, they gave up drink 
the last day, and were sober enough when they landed. 

“I don’t know why, but I didn’t think things were 
going to turn out well. I had heard the traders say as 
they didn’t mean to come up that part of the country 
agin, and I knew their goods warn’t of no account, and 
that they were going to trade off bad stuff on the Indians. 
The first two days things went on all right; every evening 
large lots of goods were brought down to the boats, but 
except when I went up with the others to the traders’ tent 
to bring the things down I didn’t go about much. It was 
a large camp, with two or three hundred braves, as they 
calls ’em. I told the men in my boat what I thought of 
it; but they didn’t think much of what I said, and traded 
a little on their own account, for it was part of the agree- 
ment that each man should be allowed to take up fifty 
dollars’-worth of goods, and have room for what he could 
get for them. I traded mine away the first day for some 
buffalo robes, and so hadn’t anything to take me away 
from the boat. 

“The third day the trading was done; there was to be a 
grand feast that night, and the boats were to start the next 
morning. Most of the men went up to see the fun, but I 


116 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


persuaded two of my mates in my boat to stop quiet with 
me. Presently I heard a yell from the camp, which was 
about three hundred yards away. ‘That’s mischief,’ says 
I. I had scarce spoken when there was a yelling fit to 
make your har stand on end, and I heard pistol-shots. 
‘Quick, lads,’ says I, ‘catch up a hatchet and stave a hole 
in the other boats, and push ours a little way out from the 
bank. ’ We warn’t long in doing that, and then we stopped 
and listened. 

“There was a sharp fight going on, that we could hear, 
and guessed how it must be going when they war twenty 
to one. Presently the shouting and firing ceased, and then 
against the sky-line —for they had lots of fires blazing in 
camp — we saw a crowd of Injuns come rushing down to 
the river. We shoved the boat off, and took to our oars; 
they shouted to us, and then fired at us, and shot their 
arrows, and swarmed down into the other two boats to 
come after us, and there was a fresh, burst of yells when 
they found that they wouldn’t swim. We didn’t stop to 
talk, you may be sure, but rowed as hard as we could. 

“The night was pretty dark, and though several bullets 
hit the boat, and a dozen of their arrows fell into it, only 
one of us had a scratch, and that wasn’t serious. As soon 
as we war fairly away, we set to work to roll up the buffalo 
robes and skins into big bales, and lay them along on each 
side of the boat, so as form a protection for us from their 
bullets and arrows; for we guessed they would follow us 
down, and in many places the river was so shallow they 
could ride pretty well out to us. They did follow us, on 
horseback, for the next two days, and shot at us pretty 
hot at times. Once they rode so far out in the shallows 
that we dared not pass them; so we dropped anchor above, 
and took to our rifles, and gave them a pretty sharp lesson, 
for they lost seven men. After that they didn’t try that 
game any more, but just followed down in hopes we might 


CAPTAIN PA TLEY *8 HEIR. n* 

Stick on a sandbank. I tell you I never looked out so 
sharp for shallows as I did on that there voyage. 

“Fortunately, at the end of the first day a breeze sprang 
up from the north, and we got up a sail, for we war pretty 
nigh done, having rowed by turns from the time we 
pushed off. We war afraid, you see, as they might patch 
up the other boats and set out after us, though we hoped 
they mightn’t think of it, for these horse Indians don’t 
know nothing of river work. They gave it up at last, and 
we got safely down to St. Louis. What the trouble was 
about I never heard, for not one of those who had landed 
ever got away to tell us. I expect it was some trouble 
about the quality of the goods, and that the Indians got a 
notion they were being cheated, which, sure enough, they 
war.” 

“Was anything done to punish the Indians, Hiram?” 

“Lor’ bless you, who was to punish them? Why, there 
was scarce a settler then west of the Mississippi. Ho; if 
traders went among ’em they went among ’em at thar own 
risk; and, I am bound to say, that if the Indians were 
treated fair, and the men understood thar ways, thar was 
no great danger. The Indians knew if they killed traders 
that others wouldn’t come among them, and they wanted 
goods — guns and powder most of all, but other things too, 
such as blankets, and cloth as they calls cotton, and 
hatchets, beads, and other things, and they wanted to trade 
off thar hosses and buffalo robes, and skins of all kiuds. 
That was the protection the traders had; and it warn’t 
very often the Indians fell foul of them, except it might 
be a muss got up over the fire-water. 

“When the news came down to St. Louis there was a 
good deal of talk about it; but it got about that these fel- 
lows had been taking up trash, and the general verdict was 
that it sarved ’em right. All the traders on the frontier 
set their faces agin men who ‘cheated the Indians, not 


1X8 


CAPTAIN BA r LET'S HETU. 


because they cared for the Indians, mark you, but because 
anything that made bad blood did harm to the trade all 
over. However, it gave me a bad scare, and it was a good 
many years before I came up the Upper Missouri again. 
There’s some men as seems to me to be downright fond of 
fighting; but I don’t feel like that, anyway. If I get into 
a hard corner, and have got to fight, then I fights, but I 
had rather go round the other way if I could. Thar are 
dangers enough on this river for me; what with snags, and 
shoals, and storms, they are enough for any reasonable 
man. Then there are the river pirates; they are worse 
than all, though it’s some years since we had much trouble 
with ’em.” 

“River pirates, Hiram? I have not heard you say any- 
thing about them before. I did not know there were any 
pirates on these rivers.” 

“Thar used to be, lad, years back, lots of them, and a 
pretty lively time we used to have on the river.” 

“But what sort of pirates, Hiram?” 

“Well, thar war two sorts, you see, at that time. Five- 
and-twenty years ago the settlements on the river war a 
long way apart. You might go fifty miles without seeing 
a village when you once got past the plantations on the 
lower river; you may say as this region then was like what 
Kansas is now. Chaps who had made it too hot for them 
in the east came out here, and just had to wrestle round 
for a living. New Orleans is pretty bad now, but it was a 
sight worse then; and St. Louis was a pretty hard place. 
Then, too, thar war runaway slaves. So you see, one way 
or the other, a fellow who wanted to get together a band 
up to any mischief had not to look far for men. 

“ Well, as I said, thar war two sorts. Thar war the men 
who lived away from the river, say in the low country 
between the Arkansas and the main stream, which was then 
pretty nigh all swamp and forest; perhaps they had hosses, 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


119 


perhaps not, but mostly they had. Well, one fine morning 
a dozen of them would ride into one of the villages on the 
river. Thar wasn’t much to take thar, you know, onless 
it war fever, and they had enough of that in thar own 
swamps. They would wait, maybe, for a day or two, till a 
boat came in, and as soon as it had made fast they would 
cover the men with thar rifles, and just empty it of all it 
had got — powder, blankets, groceries, and dry goods, and 
what not — and make olf again. I got my cargo lifted, I 
should say, a dozen times that way. It war onpleasant, 
but thar was nothing for it; and it warn’t no use making 
a fuss when you saw half a dozen rifles pinted at you. 
Why, in the early days of steamers, more than once they 
got held up, and the fellows went through the passengers 
and cargo and took what they fancied. 

“ Well, that was one sort of pirate. The other was what 
you may call the regular water pirate. They lived on the 
islands, in among the back-waters, or wherever thar might 
be a patch of raised ground among the swamps, and had 
boats; and they would attack you at night as you war 
dropping down the stream or poling up the backs. They 
war wuss nor the others. A sight more nor half of ’em 
Tyar blacks; and good reason why, for the fevers carried 
olf the whites as joined them before they had been thar 
long. They was a powerful bad lot, and those who fell 
into thar hands hadn’t much chance of thar lives. The 
runaway slaves war down on a white man, and he had no 
marcy to expect at thar hands; besides, they didn’t want 
no tales told which might scare boats from going near the 
places where they war hiding. So in general they fust 
emptied the boats, and then scuttled and sunk them, and 
cut the throats of all on board. Hundreds of boats war 
missed in those days, and none ever knew for sartin what 
had become of them. 

« J tell you one had to keep one’s eyes open in those days. 


120 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’8 HEIR. 


We liad strong crews, and every man was armed, and a 
pretty sharp lookout was kept; but for all that thar was 
places, back-waters, and cuts, and such like, whar I 
wouldn’t have been stuck in after dark, not for all the 
money in Orleans. Even in the open river no one was safe 
from ’em, for they got so bold they would go. out, four or 
five boat-loads, and attack in broad daylight; things got so 
bad that no one dared go up or down, unless it was ten or 
twelve boats together for protection. It war the steamers 
as broke ’em up; thar ain’t no stopping a steamer, and 
every one took to being towed up or down. Then the 
population increased, and regular expeditions war got up 
to hunt ’em down. Altogether it got made too hot for 
’em, and the game didn’t pay; but for some years, I can 
tell you, they war a terror to the river.” 

“And were you never attacked, Hiram?” 

“I was chased several times,” Hiram said; “but I had 
a fast boat and a good crew, and we generally had four 
white men on board then, and plenty of arms. Yes, we 
had some skirmishes, but it was only once I had a regular 
set-to with ’em, and that war a pretty bad job.” 

“How was it, Hiram?” 

“Well, you see, the river was pretty full, and the wind 
had been light for some time, and there warn’t no way of 
making against the main stream; I had waited for three 
weeks, and me and my mates got sick of it. We had a 
cargo which was due up the river, and we made up our 
minds at last that we would push on and take our chance. 
We had eight negroes, all strong active fellows, armed with 
cutlasses and old ship muskets, and we four whites had 
rifles and pistols. We allowed we could make a good fight 
of it, so we agreed as we would go up the back-waters, so 
managing as to be able to get out into the stream every 
night and anchor thar. We shifted the cargo a bit, so as 
to pile it up round the sides, stowing the rice-bags so as to 
make a sort of breastwork; then off we started. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


121 


“For some clays we got along well; the blacks polecl thar 
best, and every evening we just bit a pint where we could 
go out into the stream agin. Two or three times we 
fancied we war watched, for we heard the snapping of 
twigs, and sounds in the thick swamp jungle ahead; but I 
reckon they thowt better of it when they saw two rifle- 
barrels peeping out from the sacks on each side, and saw 
we war ready for a tussle. But one day — it wasn’t very 
far from the pint where we mended up that boat the other 
day — we war later than usual; the stream war stronger 
than we reckoned on, we had run aground two or three 
times on the mud, and it war getting dark, and we had 
two miles yet before we got to a place where we could get 
out into the river. The blacks war working thar hardest; 
it didn’t need no words from us to keep ’em at it, for they 
knew as well as we did what was the danger, and the boat 
just flew along that narrow channel. 

“ We war on the watch, with our eyes fixed on the bank, 
and our ears pretty wide open to catch any sound ahead. 
All of a sudden a gun was tired close alongside. The 
blacks gave a yell, and would have jumped down into 
shelter, only I shouted, ‘Stick to your poles, men; if you 
lose them we are done for; there’s no danger, it’s only one 
man.’ So on we went again, for, luckily, no one was hit. 
‘That’s a signal, Bill,’ says I to one of my mates. ‘I 
reckon we shall have trouble afore we are out of this.’ On 
we went, flying between the bushes, which warn’t fifteen 
yards apart. Not a sound was heard but the panting of 
the blacks, the splash of their poles in the water, and a 
sort of sighing noise behind, as the ripples the boat made 
as she glided along rustled among the boughs which dipped 
down into the stream. 

“ tV.e had got a mile further when we heard a noise. It 
was much as a pole might make knocked against the side 
of the boat. I knew thar was mischief now. ‘Get in 


122 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


your poles, lads,’ I said; ‘four of you get out oars through 
the holes we have left for them atween the bags, and put 
your muskets close at hand; the other four get your mus- 
kets, and station yourselves two on each side.’ We went 
on slowly now; we knew they war ahead of us, and that 
hurrying wouldn’t do no good, and that we had got to fight 
anyhow. It might have been five minutes when thar was 
a flash from the bushes on either side — which we could 
scarce see in the darkness, and fully a dozen muskets 
poured a volley into us, buckshot and ball, as we found on 
looking over the boat the next morning. It was a good 
job as we put them rice-bags in place, for I reckon thar 
wouldn’t have been many of us up to fighting if they hadn’t 
been thar. We had agreed not to fire back if we war fired 
at from the wood, for they couldn’t do us much harm thar, 
and it was best to keep our fire for the boats which they 
War sure to have as well. 

“The moment the volley was fired two boats shot out, 
one from each side. ‘Now, give it ’em,’ says I. Up we 
jumped, four on each side, and poured our fire into the 
boats, which warn’t twelve feet away. The darkies who 
war rowing had been told what to do, and, to do ’em 
justice, they did it well. Thar was a yell from the boats 
as we fired, for I reckon every shot told; but the way they 
had got brought ’em on, and their bows struck us just at 
the same moment. Then at it we went with our pistols as 
they crowded forward and tried to get on board. It was 
over in half a minute, for the four blacks had seized their 
poles, and, shoving them into the boats, two on each side, 
pushed ’em otf. 

“ I have heard pretty tall language on the Mississippi, 
but I never heard such volleys of cussing as came up from 
them boats; some of the men blazed away with thar guns, 
some shouted to others to row alongside, some who war 
hit yelled and cussed like fiends; and all this time we war 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


123 


lying behind the bags, ramming down fresh charges for the 
bare life. We gave ’em eight more shots before they could 
cast otf the poles and come at ns again. This time they 
came along more on the broadside, and five or six of ’em 
sprang on board ; but we war ready with the butts of our 
rifles, and the blacks with thar cutlasses, and we cleared 
them olf again. The four darkies had stuck to thar poles; 
one boat was shoved off, and one of the blacks run his pole 
right through the bottom of the other, and in a minute she 
went down. 

“The other boat didn’t know what had happened, and 
came up again; but leaving two of the blacks to chop down 
any of the fellows in the water who might try to climb 
aboard, the other ten of us stood up and fought ’em fair. 
Our blood was up now, and our darkies fought like demons. 
The pirates soon found they had the worst of it, and 
would have got apart from us if they could ; but we jumped 
into thar boat and fought them thar, and they soon jumped 
over and made for the bank. Directly it was over they began 
to fire agin from the shore, and we jumped back into 
shelter agin in our own boat and manned the four oars 
agin. We fastened the painter of the boat on to our stern, 
and towed her behind us, and in another half an hour were 
out in the stream. It was a tough ish fight, I can tell you, 
while it lasted; two of the blacks and one of my mates had 
been hit by thar musket-balls, and the rest of us war either 
gashed by thar knives or had got ugly cracks. However, 
six of them war lying in the boat when we hauled it along- 
side; two war stone dead, the other four had been stunned 
with the butt ends of the muskets or cut down by the 
darkies’ sabers. AVe took ’em down to the next place and 
handed ’em over to the sheriff; and as thar happened to 
be a-lot of boats waiting thar for the wind, you may guess 
it w&rn’t many hours afore they tried and hung ’em. 

“ When the chaps heard the particulars, and that we had 


124 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


sank one boat, besides bringing off another, they guessed 
as likely enough the pirates war trapped thar; and so they 
got up a regular expedition, six boats, each with a dozen 
men. I went back to show ’em the place. They brought 
dogs with them, and hunted through the woods and swamps 
till they came to the patch of higher ground whar the 
pirates had got thar huts. Thar were about twenty of ’em, 
mostly negroes, and they fought hard, for thar was no 
escape, the boat having drifted away after it had sunk. 
Behind thar war some widish channels, and some of the 
boats had gone round thar to cut ’em off if they took to 
swimming. They war killed, every man jack, and that 
put an end to one of the very worst lots of pirates we ever 
had on the river.” 

“You were lucky to have got out of it so well, Hiram. 
I suppose that sort of thing is quite over now.” 

“ Yes. In course thar are water thieves still, chaps who 
steal things from the boats if thar is no one with ’em, or if 
you are all asleep below; but thar haven’t been no real 
pirates for years now — leastways not above New Orleans. 
Down in the great swamps, by the mouth of the river, 
thar’s always gangs of runaway slaves, and desperate char- 
acters of all sorts, who have got to live somehow. Thar 
are still boats sometimes missing up the river, which may 
have been snagged and gone down with all hands, and 
which maybe have corned to thar end some other way. 
Anyhow, no one thinks much about pirates now, and the 
-river’s quite as safe as the streets of New Orleans. That 
mayn’t be saying much, perhaps, but it’s good enough. 
Of course a party might any day take to the swamps and 
stop up-passing boats, just as they might take to the roads 
and stop wagons going west; but one doesn’t trouble 
about things onless they get so as to be what you might 
call a general danger. 

“You can’t go into a barroom without a risk of getting 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


125 


into a fight with a drunken rowdy; you can’t stop at one 
of these landing-places but what thar’s a chance of getting 
into a mess with fellows who come in from the hacks for a 
spree, and one doesn’t look to have these rivers which, one 
and the other, are tens of thousands of miles long, just 
kept as free from hard characters as a street in Boston. 
It’s as good as we can look for "at present. Settlement is 
going on wonderful fast, and, like enough, in another forty 
years there won’t be any more pirates on the great rivers 
here than thar are on the seas. Steam and settlements is 
hound to wipe ’em out at last.” 

During the last two or three hundred miles of the jour- 
ney up the Missouri a few settlements only were passed, 
little villages nestling closely together on the edge of the 
river, surrounded often by a stockade; for although the 
Indians were gradually falling back before the advance of 
the whites, Indian wars were of frequent occurrence, and 
then the bands of wild horsemen swept down to the Mis- 
souri, carrying fire and destruction in their course. In front 
of every settlement lay a scow or two, used partly for the 
transportation of the crops, but valuable also as an ark of 
refuge in case of attack. The shores were low, and shallows 
and banks abounded in the stream, and sometimes the tug 
ran aground four or five times in the course of the day. 
In spite of his practice with his firearms, and Hiram’s talk 
and stories, Frank began to find the days pass very slowly, 
and was not a little glad when Hiram pointed out a cluster 
of huts on the left bank, and said, “There is Omaha.” , 

Half an hour later the tug was alongside, and Mr. Will- 
cox was on board. 

“I am glad to see you up,” lie said, as the flats were 
moored to the bank, and Frank stepped ashore and joined 
him. “ The time has gone slowly here; for though I stayed 
four days at St. Louis, I have been here nearly a week. 
There is lots to do, and I am greatly pleased that I went 


126 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


in for it. I wish you could have made up your mind to 
settle here; you would have made a* precious deal better 
thing of it than you ever will do by digging for gold. 
However, I know it’s no use talking about that. I have 
got a capital location on the main street; I bought it off a 
fool who came up in the steamboat with me, and had made 
up his mind to sell out and cross the plains. I had an 
offer for it yesterday at five times the price I gave for it; 
but, bless you, I wouldn’t have taken twenty times. This 
is going to be a big place. I am glad you have come for 
another reason. I am putting up at one of the shanties 
they call an hotel, but one might as well try to live in the 
tower of Babel. There is an uproar day and night; every 
inch of the floor is taken up for sleeping on, and I have 
been nearly driven out of my mind. Now I can live on 
board the tug till she goes down with the empty flats. I 
am glad I brought up those eight negroes, for there would 
be the greatest difficulty in hiring hands here; every one 
seems to have gone stark mad, and to consider every hour’s 
delay in pushing west as so much loss of a chance of mak- 
ing a fortune.” 

For the next fortnight the labor was incessant. Hiram, 
Frank, and the eight negroes toiled in landing the stores 
and the framework of the house, and in transporting 
them to the lot which Mr. AVillcox had purchased. Even 
the engineers of the tug were induced by the high payment 
Mr. AVillcox offered to aid in the work. Several stretchers, 
or hand-barrows, had been brought up with them, and on 
these such bales and boxes as were too heavy for one man 
to carry were transported. The framework of the house 
was first carried to the site, and four of the negroes who 
were good carpenters at once begaji to put it together, so 
that by the time the last of the goods were brought up the 
store was ready to receive them. • It was a building some 
sixty feet long by twenty wide, and. was divided into two 


GAP TAIN BAYLEY'S HEIN 


W 


by a partition; the one end, twenty feet in length, was the 
saleroom; in the other, forty feet long, the bulk of the 
heavy goods, flour, rice, baeon, hogsheads of sugar, and 
chests of tea, were stored. There was, in addition, a 
lean-to, nine feet square, at one end, which was to serve 
as the habitation of the storekeeper. The assortment of 
goods was very large. In addition to the stock of provi- 
sions, which filled the storeroom nearly up to the roof, were 
a great quantity of clothing fitted for the rough work of 
the plains, a large assortment of rifles and pistols, kegs of 
ammunition, casks of axle-grease, ironwork for wagons, 
and all the miscellaneous stores, down to needles and 
thread, which would be likely to be required by the 
emigrants. As soon as the stores were all safely on shore 
and housed, the tug started down the river again with the 
flats; Hiram and six of the negroes accompanied them, 
two of the latter being retained as assistants to the store- 
keeper. Between Hiram and Frank there was a very 
cordial adieu. 

“I likes yer, young fellow,” the boatman said; “you 
will make your way, never fear, some day, if you get a 
chance. Send a line to me, to the charge of the boss, and 
let me know how things go with you. I shall be gladder 
than I can tell you to hear as you’re making your way, and 
I shall be anxious like till I hear as you have got safely 
over this journey, for they do say as the Indians are play- 
ing all sorts of deviltry with the caravans. Well, there’s 
one thing, you are a good shot now; but be careful, lad, 
and don’t get into no fights if you can keep out of ’em.” 

Frank remained for another fortnight assisting in the 
store; by the end of that time things had settled down. 
They were already doing a very large business, and Mr. 
Willcox had sent down orders, both to St. Louis and ISiew 
Orleans, for fresh consignments of stores very greatly 
exceeding those which he had brought up with him. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


128 

Three months previously Omaha had been a tiny settle* 
ment of a dozen houses, but was rapidly growing into a 
considerable place. 

Many stores were rising, but the distance from the 
inhabited settlements, and the difficulties of carriage, were 
enormous. The population was, for the most part, a float- 
ing one, scores of wagons and vehicles of all sorts arriving 
every day, while as many departed. This was the last 
point of civilization, and here the emigrants generally 
halted for a few days to rest their weary cattle, and to fill 
up their stores of provisions for the journey across the 
wilderness. 

All believed that avast fortune awaited them on the other 
side of the continent, and the most fabulous tales of the 
abundance of gold' were circulated and believed. In some 
cases the parties consisted only of men who had clubbed 
together and purchased a wagon, and started, leaving their 
wives and families behind them. In others they were 
composed of whole familes, who had sold off farms or busi- 
nesses in the east in the assurance of acquiring' a fortune at 
the gold-diggings. Around the little settlement the plain 
was dotted with the white tilts of the wagons, mingled 
with the tents which had been extemporized of sail-cloth, 
tarpaulins, and blankets. 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY ’S HEIR. 


129 


CHAPTEE IX. 

ON THE PLAINS. 

“ I think now that you can spare me, Mr. Willcox,” Frank 
said, just a month after the day of landing. “The store 
has got into swing now; the two negroes know their work 
well, and everything is going on smoothly; therefore, if 
you have no objection, I shall see about making a start.” 

“I shall be sorry to lose you,” Mr. Willcox said; “but, 
as you say, the place will run itself now. I shall go down 
by the next steamer, and send up two more storekeepers 
and a celrk from my office there. This is going to be a 
big thing. Well, lad, here’s the money you gave me to 
take care of, and the two hundred dollars due to you. I 
will give orders to Simpson that you are to take everything 
you can require for your journey from the store, and mind 
don’t stint yourself; you have done right-down good service 
here, and I feel very much indebted to you for the way 
you have stuck to me at this pinch. I wish you every 
luck, lad, and I hope some day that rascally affair at home 
will be cleared up, and that you can go back again cleared 
of that ugly charge. Anyhow, it is well for you to make 
your way out here. It will be a satisfaction for you, if 
you do go back, to have shown that you were dependent on 
no one, but that you could fight your own way, and make 
your living by the aid of your own hands and your own 
brain. And now look here, if at any time you get sick of 
gold-digging, as you very well may, and want to turn your 
hand to anything else — and in a country like that, mind 


130 


CAPTAIN PA T LET'S BETH. 


you, with a population pouring in from all parts, there will 
be big opportunities — if you want capital to start you, just 
you send a letter to David Willcox, New Orleans, and tell 
me you have drawn on me for five thousand dollars. I am 
a rich man, lad, and have no children of my own; I have 
some nephews and nieces who will get my money some day, 
but I can do what I like with it, and you will be heartily 
welcome to the sum I mention. I have taken a fancy to 
you, and it will be a real pleasure to me to help you. If 
you do well you can some day send the money back, if you 
like; if you don’t do well, there’s an end of it. Don’t let 
it trouble you for a moment, for it certainly won’t trouble 
me, and be sure you don’t hesitate to draw it when you 
want it. Eemember, I shan’t regard it as an obligation, 
but it will be a real genuine pleasure to me to cash that 
order.” 

Frank thanked Mr. Willcox very heartily for his kind 
offer, of which he promised to avail himself should an op- 
portunity arise, and in any case to write to him occasionally 
to tell him how he was getting on. Then he strolled out to 
examine the great gathering round the settlement, which 
hitherto he had had no time to do, having been at work from 
daybreak until late at night. As he wandered among the 
motley throng of emigrants, he was struck with the hope- 
fulness which everywhere prevailed, and could not but feel 
that many of them were doomed to disappointment. Many 
of them were store-keepers, men who had never done a 
day’s work in their life; some were aged men, encumbered 
with wives and large families, and Frank wondered how 
these would ever survive the terrible journey across the 
plains, even if they escaped all molestation from the ma- 
rauding Indians. He paused for a moment near four men 
who were seated round a fire cooking their meals. 

All were sturdy, sunburnt men, who looked inured to 
hardship and work. The fact that all were animated by a 


CAPTAIN BA TINT'S HEIR. 


131 


common impulse rendered every one friendly and com- 
municative, and Frank was at once invited to sit down. 

“Of course you are going through, young fellow?” 

“Yes,” Frank said, “I am going to try.” 

“Got a horse, I suppose?” 

“Yes,” Frank said, “a riding horse, and a pony for my 
baggage.” 

“We calls it swag out on the plains,” one said; “we 
don’t talk of baggage here. Are you with any one?” 

“No,” Frank replied, “I am alone; but I am open to 
join some party. I suppose there will be no difficulty 
about that.” 

“None on airth,” the other answered; “the stronger the 
better. In course you have a rifle, besides that Colt in 
your belt?”- 

“Yes,” Frank replied; “but I suppose all this Indian 
talk is exaggeration, and there is not much danger from 
them.” 

“Don’t you go to think it, young man; the Injins is 
fchar, you bet, and no mistake, and a big grist of scalps 
they will take. The news of this here percession across 
the plains will bring them down as thick as bees on the 
track, and I tell you there will be some tough fights afore 
we get across.” 

“Have you had much experience of the plains?” Frank 
isked. 

“ We are hunters,” the other said briefly, “and have been 
out there, more or less, since we were boys. We knows 
what Injins is, and have fought them agin and agin; but 
none of us have ever made this journey, indeed there 
warn’t five men who had ever crossed the Rockies by the 
northern tracks afore the gold scare began. But I know 
enough of the country to know as it will be a fearful jour- 
ney, and full half of these people as you see fooling about 
here as if they were out for a summer excursion will leave 
their bones by the way.” 


132 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIU. 

“You don’t really think things are as bad as that,’’ 
Frank said. 

“I does,” the other replied emphatically. “What with 
Injins, and want of food and water, and fatigue, and , the 
journey across the plains, it will want all a man to make 
the journey. We four means to get through, and are 
bound to do it; but as for this crowd you see here, God 
help them !” 

“ Do you mean to go with one of the caravans, or start 
alone?” 

“ There is a lot going on to-morrow, and we shall join 
them. We may be of some use, for the best part of them 
are no better than a flock of sheep, and four good hands 
may keep them out of some mischief; but I expect we 
shall have to push on by ourselves before the journey is 
over.” 

“I am intending to go on to-morrow also,” Frank said, 
“and I hope you won’t mind giving me some instructions 
in the ways of the wilderness, which are, I own, altogether 
new to me.” 

“All right, young fellow; we shall see you on the road, 
and if you likes to chum up with us you may, for I likes 
yer looks, and you seems to be one of the right sort.” 

Frank said that he would gladly chum with them if they 
would allow him, and the next morning, at daybreak, 
having said adieu to Mr. W 7 illcox, he saddled his horse and 
loaded up his pony, and moved across to the spot where 
his new acquaintances were encamped. They were pre- 
paring for a start. All had good riding horses, while two 
baggage animals carried the provisions for the party. The 
caravan which they intended to accompany was already far 
out on the plain. 

“They are off in good time,” Frank said; “I did not 
think they would manage to move till midday.” 

“No more they would,” one of the hunters said; “but 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


133 


the chap as is bossing the team moved them off yesterday 
evening, and got them a mile out of camp, so they were 
able to start right off the first thing this morning.” 

In a few minutes they were on horseback, and, riding at 
easy pace for the sake of the baggage-horses, they overtook 
the caravan in two hours. It consisted of fourteen wagons, 
and four or five light carts with tilts over them. The 
wagons were all drawn by oxen, having six, eight, or ten 
according to their size or weight. The men walked by the 
side of their cattle; the greater part of the women and 
children trudged along behind the wagons, while a few 
with babies were seated within them. From time to time 
one of the men or boys would set up a song, and all would 
join in the chorus. One of these was ringing out in the 
air when the hunters joined them. 

“Poor critturs!” the eldest of the hunters, who was 
called Abe by the others, said, “ they are as light-hearted 
as if they war a-going to a camp meeting; they don’t kno^v 
what’s afore them.” 

The party rode on to the head of the wagons, where the 
oxen were led by the man who was regarded as the head of 
the party. He had at one time been a hunter, but had 
married and settled down on a farm. Two sons, nearly 
grown-up, walked by his side. He had been chosen as 
leader by the rest as being the only one of the party who 
had any previous knowledge of the plains and their dangers 
and difficulties. 

“Well, mate,” Abe said, “I told you two days ago that 
I thought that we should go on with your lot, and here we 
are. I don’t say as how we shall go all the way with you ; 
that will depend upon circumstances; at any rate we will 
stay with ye for a bit. Now my proposal is this; you shall 
hitch our three baggage-horses on behind ycur wagons, and 
tell off one of the boys to look after them; we shall hunt 
as wo go along, and what meat there is will, be for the 


134 


CAPTAIN BA YLMY'S IIETTL 


service of the camp, but if we supply you with meat it will 
only he fair that you supply us with flour and tea.” 

“ That’s a bargain,”. the man said. “You bring us in 
meat, and we will supply you -with everything else; and I 
needn’t tell you how glad I am to have you with me. Five 
extra rifles may make all the difference if we are attacked. 
We have got about twenty rifles in camp; but that ain’t 
much, as, with women and children, we count up to nigh 
sixty souls, and none of us here except myself have had any 
experience of Indian ways.” 

“That’s fixed, then,” Abe said. “At any rate you peed 
not be afraid of a surprise so long as we are with you.” 

The addition to their party gave great satisfaction to the 
whole caravan. Of flour and bacon they had ample stores 
to last them upon their long journey, and the prospect of 
a supply of fresh meat was exceedingly welcome; still more 
was the thought that the hunters would be able to warn 
them against any surprise by the Indians, and would, in 
case of the worst, aid them in their defense. 

The hunters were equally satisfied. Their supplies were 
quite insufficient for the journey, and they were now free 
from the necessity of accommodating their pace to that of 
the baggage-horses. Their progress would, indeed, be 
slower than it would have been had they journeyed alone, 
but time was a matter of no importance to them. Even in 
the matter of Indian surprises they were better off than 
they would have been had they been alone. In case, of 
meeting these marauders, they must have abandoned their 
baggage-animals; and their prospects, either of flight or 
defense, would have been poor had they met with a large 
body when alone, whereas the force with the caravan could 
defend the wagons against even a resolute attack of the 
redskins. There was no occasion for the hunters to set 
out in the pursuit of game for the first day or two, as a 
supply of fresh'meat had been brought from Omaha. They 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


135 


therefore rode with the caravan, making the acquaintance 
of its various members. 

One of the women had volunteered to cook for them ; 
and thus, when they encamped on the bank of a small 
stream, they had only to attend to the watering of their 
animals. While the meal was preparing they walked about 
in the camp, and gave many hints to the women as to the 
best way of preparing tires. These were gratefully received, 
for the emigrants were wholly unaccustomed to cooking 
without the usual appliances, and their efforts, in many 
cases, had been very clumsy and unsuccessful. They were 
surprised to find that by digging a trench in the direction 
from which the wind was blowing, and covering it over 
with sods, they could get a draught to their fire equal to 
that which they could obtain in a grate; while by building 
a low wall of sod close to leeward of the fire, they prevented 
the flames from being driven away, and concentrated them 
upon their pots and kettles. 

“It does not matter for to-night,” Abe said to the leader, 
“nor for a good many nights to come; but if I was you I 
should begin to-morrow to make ’em arrange the wagons 
in proper form, the same as if we was in the Injin country. 
It ain’t no more trouble, and there’s nothing like begin- 
ning the right way.” 

“You are right,” the man said, “to-morrow night We 
will pitch them in good form; but for a time there will be 
no occasion for the cattle to be driven in every night, the 
longer they have to graze the better.” 

“That’s so,” Abe said; “they will want all their condi- 
tion for the bad country further on.” 

The following day the hunters left the camp early. 
There was little chance of finding game anywhere near the 
line which they were following, for the wild animals would 
have been scared away by the constantly passing caravans. 
After riding for ten miles they began to keep a watchful 


136 


CAPTAIN BA Y LET'S HEIR. 


eye over the country, which, although flat to the eye, was 
really slightly undulating. Proceeding at an easy pace, 
they rode on for upward of an hour. Then Dick, one of 
the hunters, suddenly drew rein. 

“What is it, Dick?” Abe asked. 

“I saw a horn over there to the left, or I am mistaken,” 
the hunter said. 

“We will see, anyhow,” Abe said; “fortunately we are 
down wind now. You had better stop behind this time, 
young fellow, and watch us.” 

In a moment the four men dismounted and threw their 
reins on the horses’ necks — a signal which all horses on the 
plains know to be an order that they are not to move away 
— and the animals at once began cropping the grass. For 
a short distance the men walked forward, and then, as they 
neared the brow over which Dick declared he had seen the 
horn, they went down on all fours, and finally, when close 
to the brow, on their stomachs. 

Very slowly they drew themselves along. Frank looked 
on with the greatest attention and interest, and presently 
saw them halt, while Abe proceeded alone. He lifted up 
his head slightly, and immediately laid it down again, 
while the other three crawled up close to him. There was 
a moment’s pause, then the guns were thrust forward, and 
each slightly raised himself. 

A moment later the four rifles flashed, and the men 
sprang to their feet and disappeared over the brow. Frank 
rode forward at full speed to the spot, and arrived there 
just in time to see a number of deer dashing at full speed 
far across the plain, while the four hunters were gathered 
round three dead stags in the hollow. The hunters’ shots 
had all told; but two had fired at the same animal, the 
bullet-holes being close to each other behind the shoulder. 

“Dick was right, you see,” Abe said. “It was lucky he 
caught sight of that horn, for we might not have come 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


137 


upon another herd to-day. Now we will make our way 
on to the camping-ground; we can go easy, for we shall be 
there long before the teams. 

Their horses were brought up, and the deer placed upon 
them. The hunters then mounted, and took their way in 
the direction of the spot where the caravans would encamp 
for the night. 

“I understand how you find your way now, because the 
sun is up,” Frank said, “but I cannot understand how you 
would do it on a cloudy day, across a flat country like this, 
without landmarks.” 

“It’s easier to do than it is to explain it,” Abe said. 
“In the first place there’s the wind; it most always blows 
here, and one only has to keep that in a certain quarter. 
If there ain’t no wind, there’s the grass and the bushes; 
if you look at these hushes you will see that they most all 
turn a little from the direction in which the wind generally 
blows, and this grass, which is in seed, droops over the 
same way. Then, in course, 'there is the general direction 
of the valleys, and of any little streams. All of these are 
things one goes by at first, but it gets to come natural, 
what they call by instinct; one knows, somehow, which is 
the way to go without looking for signs. You will get to 
it in time, if you are long enough on the plains; but at 
present you watch the forms of all the bushes and the lay 
of the grass* ^ause you see in hunting we might get sepa- 
rated, and you might miss your way. If you should do so, 
and ain’t sure of your direction, fire your gun three times, 
as quick as you can load it, and if we are in hearing we 
will fire a gun in reply and come to you ; but you will soon 
get to know the signs of the country if you will pay atten- 
tion and keep your eyes skinned.” 

They arrived at the stream fixed upon for the camping- 
ground early in the afternoon. The point at which the 
caravans would cross it was plain enough, for the wagons 


138 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LET'S HEIR. 


all traveled by the same line, and the trail was strongly 
marked by the ruts of wheels where the ground was soft, 
by broken bushes, and trampled herbage. The saddles 
were taken off the horses, and these were allowed to graze 
at will; those of the hunters were too well-trained to wan- 
der far, and Frank’s horse was certain to keep with the 
others. 

Late in the afternoon the wagons arrived ; it had been 
a long march of more than twenty miles, and men and 
beasts were alike tired. The women and children had, 
during the latter part of the journey, ridden in the wagons. 
There was a general feeling of satisfaction at the sight of 
the hunters and their spoil, and at the blazing fire, over 
which a portion of the meat was already roasting. The 
oxen were unharnessed and watered, the wagons were 
ranged six on each side, and two across one end, the other 
end being left open for convenience; across this the light 
carts were to be drawn at night. The deer were skinned, 
cut up, and divided among the various families in propor- 
tion to their numbers. 

For two months the caravan moved forward without 
adventure. The hunters kept it well provided with game, 
which was now very plentiful. Very disquieting rumors 
were afloat along the road. These were brought down by 
the express riders who carried the mails across the plains 
and for whose accommodation small stations were provided, 
twenty or thirty miles apart; and as these were placed 
where water was procurable, they were generally selected 
as camping-grounds by the emigrants. 

The tales of Indian forays, which had at first been little 
more than rumors, were now confirmed. The express 
riders reported that the Indians were out in large numbers, 
and that many attacks had been made upon parties of 
emigrants, sometimes successfully, and involving the mas- 
sacre of every soul in them. The caravan was still some 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


139 


distance from the scene of these attacks; hut as the Indians 
ranged over the whole plains, it could not be said that they 
were beyond the risk of assault. Acting under the 
hunters’ advice, the caravan now moved in much closer 
order, the wagons advancing two abreast, so that they 
could be formed in position for defense at the shortest 
notice; and the rifles were always kept loaded, and strapped 
on the outsides of the wagons in readiness for instant use. 

Frank had by this time become an adept in hunting, and 
though still very far behind his companions in skill with 
the rifle, was able to make a fair contribution toward the 
provisioning of the camp. The hunters now divided into 
two parties, three going out in search of game on one side 
of the line of march, two on the other; they thus acted as 
scouts on either side, and would be able to bring in word 
should any suspicious signs be observed. Several small 
herds of buffalo had been met with, and a sufficient num- 
ber killed to provide the party with meat for some time to 
come. 

Frank had never passed a more enjoyable time than 
those two months of travel. The air was clear, bright, 
and exhilarating; the long days spent in the saddle, and 
the excitement of the chase, seemed to quinken his pulse 
and to fill him with a new feeling of strength and life. 
His appetite was prodigious, and he enjoyed the roughly 
cooked meals round the blazing fire of an evening as he 
had never enjoyed food before. The country was, it is 
true, for the most part monotonous, with its long low 
undulations, and the bare sweeps, unbroken by tree or 
bush; but there was always something new and interesting 
to be seen, for Frank was fond of natural history, and the 
habits and ways of the wild creatures of the prairie were 
full of interest for him. His companions, although taci- 
turn when on horseback and engaged in scouting the 
country, or in hunting, were full of anecdote as they sat 


140 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


round the fire of an evening, and Frank heard many a 
story of wild adventure with the Indians or in the chase. 

When they returned early to the camp, there was plenty 
of amusement in wandering about among the wagons, 
watching the various groups engaged at their work as 
unconcernedly as if they had been still in their little farms 
among the settlements, instead of on the plains with 
months of toilsome and dangerous journey before them. 
Some of the women cooked, while others mended their 
clothes and those of their husbands and children, while 
the men attended to the oxen, or made such repairs as were 
needed to the wagons and harness. 

As for the children, the life suited them admirably; to 
them it was a continual picnic, without school or lessons. 
And yet they too had their share of the work, for as soon 
as the wagons halted, all save the very little ones started 
at once over the plain to search for the dried buffalo dung, 
or, as it was called, chips, which formed the staple of the 
fires; for wood was very scarce, and that in the neighbor- 
hood of the camping-grounds, which were always at a 
stream or water-hole, had long since been cleared off by 
the travelers who had preceded them. The chips afforded 
excellent fuel* burning with a fierce, steady glow, and 
making a fire something like that afforded by well-dried 
peat. Another source of fuel were the bones which lay in 
many places, scattered pretty thickly. Sometimes these 
marked the spot where long before a party of Indians had 
come upon a herd of buffalo, sometimes they were remains 
of the cattle of caravans which had preceded them; these 
were often quite fresh, the herds of coyotes stripping off 
the flesh of any animals that fell by the way, and leaving 
nothing in the course of a day or two after their death but 
the bare bones. Whenever the caravan came upon such a 
skeleton upon the line of march,, the men broke it up, and 
flung the bones into one of the wagons for the night’s fire, 


CAPTAIN BA Y LET'S HEIR. 


141 


Sometimes, as they got well on in their journey, they 
came to patches of soap-weed, a vegetable of soft, pulpy 
nature, which grows to a considerable height, and dies 
from the bottom, retaining its greenness of appearance long 
after the stem has become brown and withered ; it burns 
freely, with a brilliant flame. The women of the party 
rejoiced when a clump of soap-weed was discovered, and it 
was always the occasion of a general wash, as by immersing 
some of it in water it had all the properties of soap, except 
that it did not make the lather which distinguishes the 
real article. But in places where the soap-weed was not to 
be found, and chips were scarce, the hunters did their best 
to supply fuel, and would generally bring home large bun- 
dles of wood upon such of the horses as were not carrying 
game. 

The children’s greatest delight was when the camp hap- 
pened to be pitched near a prairie-dog town, and they were 
never weary of watching the antics of these funny little 
creatures. Some of these towns were of considerable 
extent, the ground within their circle being quite bare of 
herbage from their scratching, and the constant scampering 
of their little feet, and covered thickly with the mounds 
which marked the entrances to the innumerable holes. 
The prairie-dogs themselves were about the size of rabbits, 
but seemed to Frank, from their quick, jerking motions, 
and their habit of sitting up on their hind-legs, to resemble 
squirrels more than any other animal. They were as much 
interested in the travelers as the latter were with them, 
almost every mound having its occupant sitting up watch- 
ing them inquisitively. There were four or five dogs with 
the caravan, and up.til the novelty had passed off, and they 
became convinced of the utter futility of the chase, the 
dogs exhausted themselves in their endeavors to capture 
the prairie-dogs. These seemed to feel an absolute enjoy- 
ment in exasperating the dogs, sitting immovable until the 


142 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


latter were within a few yards of them, and then suddenly 
disappearing like a flash of lightning down their holes, 
popping their heads out again and resuming their position 
on the tops as soon as the dogs had dashed off in another 
direction. 

But the prairie-dogs were not the only occupants of the 
towns; with them, apparently on terms of great friendship, 
lived a colony of little owls, sharing their abodes, and sitting 
with them on their hillocks. There were also a third 
species of inhabitant, and the presence of these caused 
strict orders to be given to the children not to wander over 
the ground; these were rattlesnakes, of which, on a sunny 
afternoon, many could be seen basking on the sand-heaps. 

“Yes, you always find the three together,” Abe said, in 
answer to Frank’s question, “and how such contrary things 
get to be friends is more nor I can tell. Sartin they must 
eat each other, there ain’t anything else for ’em to eat. 
The prairie-dogs air a puzzle; you never see ’em any dis- 
tance beyond thar towns, and yet they must live on grass 
and roots. The owls, no doubt, live on little prairie-dogs 
and the rattlesnakes may sometimes eat an old one. Still, 
there it is; they never seem afraid of each other, and no 
one, as far as I knows, has ever seen a prairie-dog fifty 
yards away from his town. The rummest thing about 
them is as every town has got its well. The prairie-dogs 
have all got their holes, and though you may see ’em going 
about popping in and out of each other’s houses, I fancy 
as they always keep to their own. But there’s one hole 
which they all use, and that goes down to the water. No 
matter how deep it is, they takes it down; I fancy the 
whole lot digs at it by turns till they get there. You will 
see thar towns are always on lowisli ground, so that they 
can get down to water all the sooner; that’s why they 
build up those mounds round each hole.”. 

“I thought it was just the earth they had thrown out, 
Abe.” 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'fi HEIR. 


143 


“So it is, partly; but it serves to keep the water out iu 
the wet season too. If you watch ’em you can see ’em 
building the earth up and patting it down hard if it gets 
broken down. Sometimes, in very \^et weather, thar will 
be a flood, and tlierr the whole lot, dogs and owls and 
snakes, get drowned all together. Mighty nasty places 
they are, I tell yer, when they are desarted. At other 
times you can see ’em plain enough, and can ride through 
’em at a gallop, for the horses are accustomed to pick thar 
way; but after a year or two, when the grass grows again, 
and is breast high in summer, and you come across one of 
them, the first you know about it is the horse puts his foot 
in a hole, and you are flying through the air. Many a fall 
have I had from them darned little things.” 

“Are they good eating, Abe?” 

“Yes, they ain’t bad eating; and if you lie down quiet, 
and shoot straight, yon ain’t long in making a bag. But 
you have got to kill ’em to get ’em; if you don’t put your 
bullet through thar head, they just chucks themselves 
straight down the hole, and it would take an hour’s digging, 
and it may be more, to get at ’em.” 

“ There seems to be a tremendous lot of rattlesnakes in 
some places, Abe.” 

“ Thar are that, lad ; I have seen places where you might 
kill a hundred in an hour with your Colt. Thar are two 
sorts, them as you finds on the plains and them as you 
finds among rocks; one are twice as big as the other, but 
thar ain’t much difference in thar bite.” 

“Is it always fatal, Abe?” 

“Not often, lad, either to man or horse, though I have 
known horses die when they have been bit in the head 
when they have been grazing. The best thing is to tie a 
bandage tightly above the place, and to clap on a poultice 
of fresh dung — that draws out the poison; and then, if 
you have got it, drink half a bottle of spirits. It ain’t 


144 


CAPTAIN BA T LET'S HEIR . 


often we get bit, because of these high boots; but the Injins 
get bit sometimes, and I never heard of thar dying. The 
only thing as we are regular feered of out in these plains 
is a little beast they call the hydrophobia cat.” 

“I never heard of that. What is it like, Abe?” 

“It is a pretty little beast, marked black and white, and 
about the size of a big weasel. It has got a way of coming 
and biting you when you are asleep, and when it does it is 
sartin death; thar ain’t no cure for it; the best plan is to 
put your Colt to your head and finish it at once.” 

“What horrible little beasts!” Frank said; “I hope they 
are not common.” 

“No, they ain’t common, and there’s more danger from 
them down south; if you sleeps in an old Mexican hut 
that’s been deserted, or places of that sort, it’s best to look 
sharp round afore you goes to sleep.” 

The game most commonly met with were the black- 
tailed and white-tailed deer. These were generally met 
with in -parties of from six to twelve, and were usually 
stalked, although sometimes, by dividing and taking a 
wide circle, they could manage to ride them down and get 
within shot. This could seldom be done with the ante- 
lope, which ran in much larger herds, but were so suspi- 
cious and watchful that there was no getting within shot, 
while, once in motion, they could leave the horses behind 
with ease. The only way in which they could get them 
would be by acting upon their curiosity. One or two of 
the hunters would dismount, and crawl through the grass 
until within three or four hundred yards of the herd ; then 
they would lie on their backs and wave their legs in the 
air, or wave a colored blanket, as they lay concealed in the 
grass. The herd would stop grazing and look on curiously, 
and gradually approach nearer and nearer to investigate 
this strange phenomenon, until they came well within shot, 
when the hunters would leap to their feet and send their 
unerring bullets amotag them. 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


145 


“Yon would hardly believe, now,” Peter said, one day 
when he and Frank had brought down two fine antelopes 
by this maneuver, “that the coyotes are just as much up 
to that trick as we are. They haven’t got a chance with 
the deer when they are once moving, although sometimes 
they may pick up a fawn a few days old, or a stag that has 
got injured ; but when they want deer-meat they just act 
the same game as we have been doing. Over and over 
again have I seen them at their tricks; two of them will 
play them together. They will creep up through the grass 
till they can get to a spot where the antelope can see them, 
and then they will just act as if they were mad, rolling over 
on their backs, waving their legs about, twisting and rolling 
like balls, and playing the fool, till the antelope comes up 
to see what is the matter. They let them come on till 
they are only a few yards away, and then they are on one 
like a flash, before he has time to turn and get up his 
speed. One will catch him by a leg, and the other will get 
at his throat, and between them they soon pull him down. 
They will sham dead too. Wonderful cute beasts is them 
coyotes; they are just about the sharpest beasts as live.” 

“Do they live entirely upon deer?” 

“Bless you, no; they will eat anything. They hang 
about behind the great buffalo herds, and eat them as 
drops; where there are such tens of thousands there is 
always some as is old or injured and can’t keep up; besides, 
sometimes they get scared, and then they will run over 
a bluff and get piled up there dead by hundreds. The 
coyotes pick the bones of every beast as dies in the plains. 
The badgers helps them a bit; there are lets of those about 
in some places.” 


U6 


CAPTAIN BAT LET ’8 BEIB. 


CHAPTER X. 

A BUFFALO STORY. 

Sometimes, instead of taking his rifle and accompanying 
the other hunters, Prank would borrow a shotgun, and go 
out on foot and return with a good hag of prairie-fowl, 
birds resembling grouse. Occasionally in the canyons, or 
wooded valleys, far away from the track, the hunters came 
across the trail of wild turkeys; then two of them would 
camp out for the night, and search under the trees until 
they saw the birds perched on the boughs above them, and 
would bring into camp in the morning half a dozen dan- 
gling from each of their saddles. Frequently, in their rides, 
they came across skunks, pretty black and white little 
animals. Frank was about to shoot the first he saw, but 
Peter, who was with him, shouted to him not to fire. 

“It’s a skunk,” he said; “it ain’t no use wasting your 
powder on that varmin. Why, if you were to kill him, 
and went to take it up, you wouldn’t be fit to go into camp 
for a week; you would stink that bad no one couldn’t 
come near you. They are wuss than pizen, skunks. Why, 
I have seen dogs sit up and howl with disgust after inter- 
fering with one of them. I don’t say as they can’t be 
eaten, cos the Indians eat them; and, for the matter of 
that, 1 have ate them myself. But they have to be killed 
plump dead, and then the stink-bag has to be cut out from 
them directly ; but if you ain’t hard pressed for food, I 
advise you to let skunks alone.” 

The first time that they came across a large herd of 


GAP T AIK BA YLEY'S HEIR . 


147 


buffalo was a day Frank long remembered. He was out 
with the four hunters; they had just scampered to the top 
of one of the swells, when they simultaneously reined in 
their horses, for the valley — half a mile wide — in front of 
them was filled with a dark mass of moving animals, 
extending hack for two or three miles. 

“There, Frank,” Abe said, “there is meat for yon- 
enough for an army for months.” 

Frank was too surprised to speak for a time; the number 
seemed countless. 

“What a wonderful sight!” he exclaimed at last. 

“Ay, that it is, lad, to one who has never seen it afore; 
and to think that thar are scores of herds like that out on 
these plains. It’s one of the mightiest sights of natur. 
But it’s nothing to see ’em now, going along quiet, to 
what it is to see ’em when they are on the stampede, when 
the ground shakes with thar tread, and the air seems in a 
quiver with thar bellowing; thar don’t seem nothing as 
could stop ’em, and thar ain’t. If it’s a river, they pours 
into it; if it’s a bluff, they goes over it, and tens of thou- 
sands of them gets killed. The Injins is mighty wasteful 
of thar flesh, but I doubt whether all the Injins in the 
continent kills as many as kills themselves in them wild 
stampedes. We will just wait where we are until they are 
past, and then we will drop down on ’em and cut three or 
four of ’em off. We will take one apiece; that will give 
us as much flesh as the wagons can load up, and I don’t 
hold to taking life unless the meat’s wanted. Now, lad, 
all that you have got to do is, when you ride down just 
single out your beast, ride alongside of him, and empty 
your Colt behind his shoulder. Keep rather behind him, 
and have your horse well in hand to wheel if he twists 
round and charges you.” 

A few minutes later the signal was given, and the five 
horsemen dashed down the slope. A deep bellow pro- 


148 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S HEIR. 


claimed that the herd had become aware of the presence of 
their enemies. The leisurely pace at which they were 
proceeding changed instantly into a gallop on the part of 
those conscious of danger. The impulse was communi- 
cated to those in front, and in a few seconds the whole 
herd was tearing along like a mighty torrent. 

But they were too late to escape the hunters, who came 
down upon their rear, and each proceeded to single out an 
animal. Following Abe’s instructions, Frank ranged up 
alongside a fine bull, and opened fire with his revolver at a 
point just behind the shoulder. At the third shot the great 
beast swerved sharply round, and had not Frank been on the 
alert he would have lost his seat, so sharply did the horse 
wheel to avoid the animal’s horns. The buffalo at once 
resumed its course behind the herd; but Frank was soon 
alongside again, and as he fired the last shot of his revolver 
had the satisfaction of seeing the great beast stagger and 
then fall prostrate. He at once reined in his horse and 
looked round. His companions were all some distance in 
the rear, having brought down their game with less expend- 
iture of lead, knowing exactly the right spot where a 
wound would be fatal. 

“That’s a fair lot of meat,” Abe said, as they gathered 
into a group. “That. will last ’em a long time. How, if 
we had been Injins, we should have gone on shooting and 
shooting till we had killed a score or more, and then taken 
just the best bits, and left the rest for the coyotes; but I 
call it downright wicked to waste meat. Kill what you 
want — that’s natural and right; but I am agin drawing a 
bead on an animal, whether he be buffalo or deer, or what- 
not, ouless you want his meat, or onless his hide be of 
value to you. If men acted on that thar rule there would 
be game on these plains for any time; it’s willful destruc- 
tion as is clearing ’em out, not fair hunting. 

“Now we will ride off and stop the teams as they come 


C API AIN BA YLEY’S HEIR . 


140 


along and bring ’em round here. It won’t be so very far 
out of thar way. We can stop a couple of days to cut up 
and dry the meat. The rest will do the cattle good, and 
there’s nothing like having a supply of dried meat; I don’t 
say it’s as toothsome as fresh, but it ain’t ter be despised, 
and the time may come, in fact it’s pretty sure to come, 
when we shan’t be able to do much hunting round the 
wagons. We are getting nigh the country where we may 
expect to meet with Injin troubles. It’s just as well we 
met with this herd afore we got thar, for we should have 
been pretty sure to find a party of them hanging on the 
rear of the buffalo.” 

Three hours later the wagons arrived at the spot, the 
emigrants in high spirits at the news that such an abundant 
supply of meat had been procured. The hunters skinned 
and cut up the five buffaloes; the wagons were placed some 
fifteen yards apart, and several cords stretched tightly 
between them; upon these was hung tlib flesh, which was 
cut in strips some four inches wide and half an inch thick. 
By the end of the third day the whole of the meat was 
dried by the united action of the sun and wind. The 
skins had been pegged out in the sun, and some of the 
boys, under Abe’s instructions, roughly cured them, first 
scraping them inside, and then rubbing them with fat 
mixed with salt. 

“It’s a rough way,” Abe said, “and the Injin women 
would laugh to see it; they just rub and rub at them till 
they get them as soft and pliable as the leather they make 
gloves of east. Still, they will keep as they are, and will 
do to chuck in the bottom of the wagons for the women 
and children to sit upon ; besides, we shall find it cold at 
night as we get on, and a buffalo-robe ain’t to be despised, 
even if it ain’t dressed to perfection. When they dry and 
get stiff the boys can take another rub at ’em when we 
halts; it will give them something to do, and keep them 
out of mischief.” 


150 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


“Talking of buffalo,” Abe began, as the hunters were 
sitting round the fire on the evening of the hunt, “that 
reminds me that it wasn’t so very far from this har spot 
that me and Rube was nearly wiped out by the Utes some 
ten years ago. Rube, he was a young chap then, and had 
not been long out on the plains. We war hunting with a 
party of Cheyennes, and had been with them well-nigh all 
the summer. One day we war in pursuit of buffalo — they 
were plentiful then; you think they are plentiful now, but 
you would see ten herds then for every one you see now. 
But they are going, and I expect in another twenty years 
that a man might ride across the plains and never catch 
sight of a hump. If the gold turns out to be as rich as 
they say, there will be hundreds of thousands of people 
cross these plains, and, like enough, settlements be formed 
right across the continent. However, there war plenty of 
herds ten years ago. 

“ We had come upon a big herd, and was chasing them. 
I had singled out an old bull, and had pushed right into 
the herd after him; Rube, he was pretty close to me. 
Well, I came up to the bull, and put a rifle-ball between 
his ribs. The herd had rather separated as we got amongst 
them, making way for us right and left as we rode after 
the bull. As he fell we reined in our horses, and looked 
round. Not a Cheyenne was to be seen; five minutes 
afore they had been hanging on the herd, sending their 
arrows in up to the feather among the buffalo; now not a 
soul was to be seen. You may guess this staggered me and 
I says to Rube, ‘Look out, Rube, there’s something up, as 
sure as fate. ’ 

“Well, I had scarcely spoken afore I saw a big party of 
In jins come charging down across our rear. ‘Utes,’ says I, 
‘by thunder! They are after the Cheyennes! Fling your- 
self flat on your horse, Rube, and get into the herd.’ 

“ The buffalo war only fifty yards away yet, and yer may 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


151 


be sure we spurred up pretty sharp till we got up to them. 
I seed at once it was our only chance. Our horses war 
blowed, for we had had a sharp chase afore we caught the 
herd, and there was no chance of our getting away from 
the Utes in the open plains. We soon caught up the herd, 
and charged in among them. The brutes were packed so 
close together that they could hardly make room for us, 
but we managed to wedge ourselves in. Those next to 
us snuffed and roared, but they war too pressed by those 
behind to do much; but by shouting and waving our hats 
we managed to keep a clear space three or four yards on 
either side of us. All this time we war lying down on our 
horses’ necks, and there war no fear that any one would 
see us in the midst of that sea of tossing cattle ; but I war 
afraid they would have caught sight of us afore we got 
among ’em. I cussed myself for having fired that last 
shot; they must have heard it, and would have known that 
some of us hadn’t seen them coming, and must be some- 
where among the herd. 

“ I raised my head a little at last, and took a look round. 
Sure enough, there was a dozen Utes coming up behind 
the herd. I puts spurs again into my horse, and, catching 
up an old bull in front of me, progged him with my bowie- 
knife, and Rube did the same to the beast next to him. 
They gave a roar and plunged on ahead through the mass, 
and we followed close to their heels. It was tight work, 
I can tell you, for the buffaloes on both sides war touching 
one another. We kept going about half a length behind 
the beasts next to us, so that the horses’ shoulders war just 
behind the shoulders of the buffaloes; as you know, the 
buffaloes have got no necks to speak of, and so, although 
they gave savage thrusts with their horns, they couldn’t 
get at the horses. Our beasts were frightened near out of 
their lives, but they war well broken, and we managed to 
keep ’em in hand. 


152 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“ The thing I was most afraid of was that they would be 
knocked off their legs, and in that case we should be 
trampled to death in a minute. As I leaned forward I 
kept one hand fixed on the neck of the buffalo next me, 
and I shouted to Rube to do the same, so as we could make 
a shift to jump on to the buffalo’s back if our horses fell; 
but, I tell you, I was beginning to fear that we shouldn’t 
see any way out of it. What with us in the middle, and 
the TJtes yelling behind them, the herd war fairly mad 
with fright; and there war no saying where they would go 
to, for, you know, a herd of buffaloes, when fairly stam- 
peded, will go clean over a precipice a hundred yards high, 
and pile themselves up dead at the foot till there is not one 
left. It war a bad fix, you bet, for I war sure that the 
Utes war after us, and not after the buffaloes, for they 
kept on, though they could soon have killed as many of 
the herd as they wanted. It was maybe four in the after- 
noon when the chase commenced, and so it went on till it 
was dark. The buffaloes war going nigh as fast as when 
we started, but the horses could Scarce keep their legs; I 
w T as sure they couldn’t run much longer, so I says to Rube, 
‘We must get out of this, or else we shall be done for.’ 

“ So we sets to work a-probing the buffalo with our 
knives again. They started on ahead as hard as they 
could, bursting a way through the crowd. We followed 
close behind them, keeping up the scare until we finds 
ourselves in front of the herd; then we spurred our horses 
on, and dashed out in front. Done as the horses were, 
they knew they had got to go, for, with the herd coming 
like thunder upon their heels, it was death to stop. We 
swerved away to the right, but it took us half an hour 
afore we war clear of the front of the herd. We went a 
few hundred yards further, and then drew rein. 

“Rube’s horse fell dead as he stopped, and mine wasn’t 
worth much more. For half an hour we could hear the 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


153 


herd rushing along, and then it had passed. We had got 
out of our biggest fix, but it warn’t a pleasant position. 

“There we war out on the plains, with only one horse 
between us, and he so done up that he couldn’t put one 
foot afore the other. 

“ Where the Cheyennes war there was no saying; the band 
might have been wiped out by the Utes, or they might 
have got away. At any rate there was no counting on 
them. The Utes who had followed the herd would be sure 
to be on our trail in the morning; they would follow all 
night, or as long as the herd ran. When the buffalo war 
fairly tired out they would lay down, and the Utes would 
see then as we warn’t there. Then they would set out 
upon the back-trail, skirting along each side of the line 
trampled by the herd until they came upon our trail ; the 
dead horse was a sign as they could see a mile away, so it 
was clear that we must foot it as soon as we could. We 
gave the horse an hour’s rest; and it did us as much good 
as him, for I can tell you we war pretty well used up. We 
drove him afore us until, after six hours’ walking, we came 
to a stream. We went up this for an hour, then we both 
filled our hunting-shirts with stones and fastened them on 
the horse, and then drove him off.” 

“What did you put the stones on his back for?” Frank 
asked. 

“To make the Ute3 think as he was carrying double. 
Each of the loads was about the weight of a man, and the 
horse was so tired that he staggered as he walked ; so as 
they would see his tracks, and wouldn’t see ours, they 
would naturally come to the conclusion as we war both on 
his back. It warn’t likely as the critter would go far 
before he laid down, perhaps not more than half a mile; 
but that would do for us. We went back a few hundred 
yards in the stream, and then struck off across the prairie, 
the same side as we had come from, taking care to make as 
little sign as possible. 


154 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY'S. HEIR. 


“The ITtes would be riding along by the side of the 
stream and looking for a horse’s print, and the chances war 
that they wouldn’t see ours. When they came up to the 
horse and found out the trick, they would gallop back 
again; at least half of them would go up the stream and 
half would take the back-track; but, you see, as they went 
up they would have trampled across our track, and they 
would find it mighty hard work to pick it up again. 

“ We footed it all day, and the prospect warn’t a pleasant 
one. The nearest settlement was nigh a thousand miles 
away, we had no horses, and we daren’t fire a gun for fear 
of bringing Utes down upon us. We had made up our 
minds to strike for the Cheyennes’ country, that being the 
nearest where we could expect to find friends. For two 
days we tramped on. The third day we war sitting by the 
side of a stream, eating a prairie-dog as we had trapped, 
when Rube stopped eating suddenly, and said, ‘Listen!’ 

“I threw myself down and put my ear to the ground, 
and, sure enough, could hear the gallop of horses. ‘Injins,’ 
says I, and chucks a lot of wet sand and gravel over the 
fire, which was fortunately a small one. I knew, in course, 
if they came close that way, as they would see it; but if 
they passed at some distance they would not notice us. 
Then Rube and I bounded into the water, and laid down 
close under a high bank, where the grass grew long, and 
drooped over to the water so as to cover our heads. 

“We heard the redskins coming nearer and nearer, and 
they stopped at the stream a quarter of a mile or so above 
us. We listened, I can tell you, for the sound of their 
going on again; but no such luck, and after a quarter of 
an hour we knew as they were going to camp there. I felt 
pretty thankful as it was late in the afternoon, for I 
guessed in the first place, as they would light their fire and 
cook their food, so none of them war likely to be coming 
down our way until it was after dark. 


CAPTAIN BAT LET'S HEIR. 


155 


“We waited and waited, till it got quite dark; then we 
followed the stream down for another four or five miles, 
and then took to the plains again. It was another three 
days afore we fell in with a party of Cheyennes. It seemed 
as how most of those we had been with had been killed by 
the Utes; the others had taken the news home, and the 
whole tribe had been turned out. We war pretty well 
done up, but the chief dismounted two of his men and put 
us on their horses, and we set off at once. We knew 
pretty well the line that the party as was following us had 
taken, and the next night we saw the fires of their camp, 
and you bet not one of them went home to tell the tale.” 

“That was a narrow escape indeed, Abe,” Frank said. 

“ It war all that. It war lucky that it war late afore the 
hunt began; if it had been early in the day nothing could 
have saved us — onless, of course, our horses had been fresh, 
and faster than those of the Utes, and then we should have 
made straight away instead of getting into the herd.” 

“They don’t seem to go as fast as a horse, Abe. I 
seemed to keep up quite easily with that bull I shot.” 

“Yes, for a burst a horse is faster than a buffalo, but 
when they once gets going on a downright stampede they 
will tire out any horse and go well-nigh as fast too. I tell 
you you have to be pretty spry, even if you are well- 
mounted, when a downright big herd, well on the stam- 
pede, comes on you. It’s a terrible sight, and it makes one 
tingle, I can tell you, especially as the horse is pretty nigh 
mad with fear.” 

“It must be as bad as a prairie fire.” 

“Worse, my lad; ever so much worse. You can see a 
prairie fire fifty miles away — more nor that at night, ever 
so much — and you have plenty of time to set the grass afire 
ahead of you, and clear the ground afore it comes up, 
though it does travel, when the wind is blowing, much 
faster than a horse can gallop. I have seen it go thirty 


156 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY'S HEIR. 


miles an hour, the flames just leaping out ahead of it and 
setting grass alight a hundred yards before the main body 
of the fire came up. I tell you it is a terrible sight when 
the grass has just dried, and is breast-high; but, as I say, 
there ain’t no cause to be afraid if you do but keep your 
head. You just pulls up a band of grass a couple of feet 
wide, and lights it ahead of you; the wind naturally takes 
it away from you, and you look sharp with blanket or leg- 
gings to beat it down, and prevent it working back agin 
the wind across the bit of ground you have stripped. v 
it goes it widens out right and left, and you have soon got 
a wide strip cleared in front of you. In course you don’t 
go on to it as long as you can help it, not till you are drove 
by the other fire coming up; that gives it time to cool a 
bit. If you must go on soon, owing to being pressed, or 
from the fire you have lit working round agin the wind — 
as it will do if the grass is very dry — the best plan is to cut 
up your leggings or any bit of hide you have got with you, 
the rawer the better, and wrap them round your horse’s 
feet and legs; but it ain’t often necessary to do that, as it 
don’t take long for the ashes to cool enough so as to stand 
on.” 

Fortunately a bottom with good grass had been found 
close at hand to the place where they encamped, and when 
the caravan proceeded the draft oxen were all the better 
for their two days’ rest. 

“We shall have to begin to lookout pretty sharp for 
Injin signs,” Abe said, as they started early next morning. 
“Fresh meat is good, but we can do without it; there’s 
enough pork and jerked meat in the wagons to last pretty 
nigh across the plains; but we are getting where we may 
expect Injins in earnest. We might, in course, have met 
’em anywhere, but as they know the caravans have all got 
to come across their ground, it don’t stand to reason as 
they would take the trouble to travel very far east to meet 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


157 


’em. I don’t say as we won’t knock down a stag, now and 
agin, if we comes across ’em, but the less firing the better. 
We have been hunting up till now, but we must calculate 
that for the rest of the journey we are going to be hunted; 
and if we don’t want our scalps taken, not to talk of all 
these women and children, we have got to look out pretty 
spry. I reckon we can beat them off in anything like a 
fair fight — that is, provided we have got time to get ready 
before they are on us, and it depends on us whether we do 
have time or not.” 


158 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY *8 HEIR. 


CHAPTER XI. 

HOW DICK LOST HIS SCALP. 

Two on three days after they had moved from their last 
halting-place, when they were sitting at the fire one even- 
ing, and Abe had been telling a yarn of adventure, he said, 
when he had finished: 

“ About the closest thing as I know was that adventure 
that Dick tliar had. Dick, take off that thar wig of 
yourn.” 

The hunter put his hand to his head and lifted at once 
his cap, made of skin, and the hair beneath it, showing, to 
Prank’s astonishment, a head without a vestige of hair, 
and presenting the appearance of a strange scar, mottled 
with a deep purple, as if it was the result of a terrible 
burn. 

“You see I have been scalped,” the hunter said. “I 
don’t suppose you noticed it — few people do. You see, I 
never takes off my fur cap night or day, so that no one can 
see as I wears a wig.” 

“There’s naught to be ashamed of in it,” Abe said, “for 
it is as honorable a scalp as ever a man got. Do you tell 
the story, Dick,” 

“ You know it as well as I do,” the hunter replied, “and 
I ain’t good at talking.” 

“Well, I will tell you it then,” Abe said, “seeing that I 
knows almost as much about it as Dick does. - The affair 
occurred the very year after what I have been telling you 
about. Dick was attached as hunter and scout to Port 


CAPTAIN SAYLEY’S HEIR. 


m 


Charles, which, was, at that time, one of the furthest 
west of all our stations. There was fifty infantry and 
thirty cavalry there, and little enough too, for it war just 
on the edge of the Dakota country. The Dakotas are a 
powerful tribe, and are one of the most restless, trouble- 
some lots I knows. Several strong parties of our troops 
have been surprised and cut to pieces by them; and as to 
settlements, no one but a born fool would dream of settling 
within reach of them. 

“I never could quite make out why we wanted to put a 
fort down so close to them, seeing as there warn’t a settle- 
ment to protect within a hundred and fifty miles; but I 
suppose the wiseacres at Washington had some sort of an 
idea that the redskins would be afraid to make excursions 
to the settlements with this fort in their rear, just as if 
they couldn’t make a sweep of five hundred miles if they 
took it into their heads, and come back into their country 
on the other side. 

“Just at that time there was no trouble with them; the 
hatchet was buried, and they used to come into the fort 
and sell skins and furs to the traders there for tobacco and 
beads. After that affair I was telling ye of, Rube and me, 
we went back for a spell to the settlement, and then took 
a fancy to hunt on another line, and, after knocking about 
for a time, found ourselves at Fort Charles. That was 
where we met Dick for the first time. 

“ The commander of the fort was a chap named White, 
a captain; he had with him his wife and daughter. A 
worse kind of man for the commander of a frontier station 
you could hardly find. He was not a bad soldier, and was 
well liked by his men, and I have no doubt if he had been 
fighting agin other white men he would have done well 
enough; but he never seemed to have an idee what Injin 
nature was like, and weren’t never likely to learn. 

“First place, he despised them. Now, you know, the 


160 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


redskins ain’t to be despised. Yon may hate them, yon 
may say they are a cnssed lot of rascals and thieves, but 
there ain’t no despising them, and any one as does that is 
sure to have canse to repent it, sooner or later. There 
was the less reason with the Dakotas, for they had cut up 
stronger bodies of troops than there was at Fort Charles 
without letting a soul escape. Then, partly because the 
captain despised them, I suppose, he was always hurting 
their feelings. 

“ Now, a chief is a chief, and a man who can bring three 
hundred horsemen into the field, whether he is redskin or 
white, is a man to whom a certain respect should be paid. 
But Captain White never seemed to see that, but just 
treated one redskin like another, just as if they war dirt 
beneath his feet. Well, as I told you, he had with him 
his wife and daughter. His wife was too fine a lady for a 
frontier fort, still, she was not badly liked; but as to the 
daughter, there warn’t a man in the fort but would have 
died for her. She war about fifteen year old, and as pretty 
as a flower. She war always bright and merry, with a 
kind word to the soldiers as she rode past them on her 
pretty white mustang. 

“ Dick, here, he worshiped her like the rest of us. If 
he got a particular good skin, or anything else, if he 
thought she would like it he would put it by for her, and 
she used, in her merry way, to call him her scout. Well, 
one day Black Dog, one of the most powerful chiefs of the 
Dakotas, rode into the fort with twenty of his braves. 
Just as he came in, Queen May, as we all called her, came 
galloping up on her mustang, and leaped like a bird from 
her saddle at the door of the commander’s house, where 
her father was standing. I war standing nex^ to him, and 
so I saw Black Dog’s eye fall on her, and as long as she 
stood talking there to her father he never took it off; then 
he said something to the brave as was sitting on his horse 
next to him. 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY'S HEIR. 


m 


“ ‘Cuss liim!’ Dick said to me, and I could see his hold 
on his rifle tighten, Svhat does he look at Queen May like 
that for? You mark my words, Abe, trouble will come of 
this.’ 

“It was not long before trouble did come, /for half an 
hour later the Dakota rode out of the fort with his men in 
great wrath, complaining that Captain White had not 
received him as a chief, and that his dignity was insulted. 
It war like enough that Captain White was not as cere- 
monious as he should have been to a great chief— for, as I 
told yon, he war short in his ways with the redskins— but 
I question if harm would have come of it if it hadn’t been 
that Black Dog’s eye fell on that gal. 

“I believe that there and then he made up his mind to 
carry her off. Wo didn’t see any redskins in camp for 
some time; and then rumors were brought in by the scouts 
that there war going to be trouble with them, that a 
council had been held, and that it war decided the hatchet 
should be dug up again. Captain White he made light of 
the affair; but he was a good soldier, and warn’t to be 
caught napping, so extra sentries were put on. 

“As Rube and me didn’t belong to the fort, of course 
we war independent, and went away hunting, and would 
sometimes be away for weeks together. One day, when we 
war some forty miles from the fort, we came upon the trail 
of a large number of redskins going east. We guessed as 
there must be nigh two hundred of them. They might, 
in course, have been going hunting, but we didn’t think as 
it were so; sartainly they had no women with them, and 
they had been traveling fast. We guessed the trail was 
three days old, and we thought we had best push on 
straight to the fort to let them know about it. 

“ When we got thar we found we were too late. On the 
morning of the day after we had started a scout had arrived 
with the news that a strong war-party of Dakotas were on 


162 


CAPTAIN HATLEY'S HEIR. 


their way to the settlements. Captain White at onc3 
mounted half his infantry on horses, and with them and 
the cavalry set out in pursuit, leaving the fort in charge of 
a young officer with twenty-four men. J ust after nightfall 
there was a sound of horsemen approaching, and the 
officer, thinking it was the captain returning, ordered the 
gate of the stockade to be left open. In a moment the 
place was full of redskins. The soldiers tried to fight, but 
it were no use; all war cut down, only one man making 
his escape in the darkness. 

“At daybreak, the captain, with his troops, rode into the 
fort. Dick, who had been with him, had, when the party 
was returning, gone out scouting on his own account, and 
had come across the back- track of the redskins. The 
moment he had brought in the news the horses were 
re-saddled again, and the party started back; but they had 
gone nearly sixty miles the day before, and it was not until 
morning that, utterly exhausted and weary, they got within 
sight of the fort. Then they saw as it war too late. 

“ Not a roof was to be seen above the stockade, and a light 
smoke rising everywhere showed as fire had done it. They 
rode into camp like madmen. There lay all their com- 
rades, killed and scalped; there were the bodies of Mrs. 
White and her servants, and the nigger laborers, and the 
trader and his clerks, and of all who had been left behind 
in the camp, except the captain’s little daughter; of her 
there weren’t no signs. Rube and me arrived half an hour 
later, just as the soldier who had escaped had come in and 
was telling how it all came about. 

“It war a terrible scene, I can tell you; the captain he 
were nigh mad with grief* and the men were boiling over 
with rage. If they could have got at the Dakotas then 
they would have fought if there had been twenty to one 
against them. Dick war nowhere to be seen; the man said 
that he had caught a fresh horse, which had broken its 


CAPTAIN BA T LEY'S HEIR. 


163 


lope and stampeded through the gate while the massacre 
was going on, and that he had ridden away on it on the 
Indian trail. 

“ If the horses had been fresh the captain would have 
started in pursuit at once, and every man was burning to 
go. But it was lucky as they couldn’t, for if they had I 
have no doubt the whole lot would have been wiped out by 
the Dakotas. However, there was no possibility of moving 
for at least a couple of days, for the horses war altogether 
used up after the march. So they had time to get cool 
on it. 

“ That afternoon the captain, who was in council with 
the two officers who remained, sent for Rube and me, and 
asked us our opinion as to what was best to be done. We 
says at once that there weren’t nothing. ‘You have lost 
nigh a third of your force,’ says I, ‘and have got little over 
forty left. If we were to go up into the Dakota country 
we should get ambushed to a certainty, and should have a 
thousand of them, perhaps two thousand, down on us, and 
the odds would be too great, captain; it couldn’t be done. 
Besides, even if you licked them — and I tell you as your 
chance of doing so would be mighty small — they would dis- 
perse in all directions, and then meet and fight you agin, 
and ye wouldn’t be no nearer getting your daughter than 
you war before. 

“‘If you ask my advice, it would be that you should 
send back to the nearest fort for more men, and that you 
should at once get up the stockade where it has been 
burned down, for there is no saying when you will be 
attacked again. I tell you, captain, that to lead this party 
here into the Dakota country would mean sartin death for 
them.’ 

“Mad as the captain was to go in search of his daughter, 
he saw that I was right, and indeed I concluded he had 
made up his mind he could do nothing before he sent for 


164 CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S HEIR. 


us, only he hoped, I suppose, as we might give some sort 
of hope. ‘I am afraid what you say is true,’ says he. ‘At 
any rate we must wait till Dick, the scout, returns; he 
will tell us which way they have gone, and what is their 
strength.’ 

“ By nightfall the soldiers had buried all the dead just 
outside the stockade, and had built a temporary wall — for 
there wasn’t a stick of timber within miles — across the 
gaps in the fence. 

“At nightfall Rube and me, whose horses war fresh, 
started for the nearest fort, and four days afterward got 
back with forty more horse-soldiers. We found that Dick 
had not come back, and we made up our minds as he had 
gone under. When we were away we had heard that the 
redskins had attacked the settlements in a dozen different 
places, and that there was no doubt a general Injin war 
had broken out. The officer at the fort where I went to 
was a major; it was a bigger place than Fort Charles, 
which was a sort of outlying post. I had, in course, told 
him about the captain’s daughter being carried off. 

“He sent up a letter with the soldiers to the captain, 
saying how sorry he was to hear of his loss, and he sent up 
forty men; but he ordered that unless Captain White had 
received some intelligence which would, in his opinion, 
justify his undertaking an expedition into the Indian 
country with so small a force as he could command, he 
was at once to evacuate the place and fall back with his 
force on the settlement, as the position was quite unten- 
able, and every man was needed for the defense of the 
settlers. 

“When the captain got the order he walked up and 
down by hisself for four or five minutes. Yer see it war a 
hard choice for him ; as a father he was longing to go in 
search of his child, as a soldier he saw that he should bo 
risking the whole force under his command if he did so, 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


165 


and that at a time when every man was needed at the set- 
tlements. At last the order was given that the troops 
should take the back -track to the settlements on the fol- 
lowing evening. 

“The captain told the officers that he should wait till 
then to give the horses of the men who had arrived with 
us time to rest; but I know in his heart he wanted to wait 
in the hope of Dick arriving with news. 

“The next day, at four in the afternoon, the men war 
beginning to saddle their horses, when the sentry suddenly 
gave the cry of ‘Injins, Injins !’ 

“In a moment every man seized his carbine and sword, 
and shoved his bridle on his horse’s head, buckled up, and 
jumped into the saddle. There was no occasion for any 
orders. I climbed up on to the stockade, for the country 
was pretty nigh a dead flat, and the lookout had been 
burned with the huts. 

“Sure enough, there in the distance war some horsemen 
coming across the plain; but they war straggling, and not 
many of them. I could not make head nor tail of it. 
They war In jins, sure enough, for even at that distance I 
could tell that by their figures. Then I saw as there was 
more of them coming behind them; the idea suddenly 
struck me: ‘Ride, captain!’ I shouted; ‘ride with your 
men for your life, they are chasing some one.’ 

“There warn’t any necessity for Captain White to give 
any orders; there was a rush to the gate, and as fast as 
they could get through they Started out at full gallop. 
Me and Rube dropped over the stockade, for our critters 
war picketed outside. We didn’t wait to saddle them, 
you may guess, but pulled up the ropes, jumped on to their 
backs, and galloped on; and we war soon by the side of 
Captain White, who was riding as if he was mad. We 
could see them a little plainer now, and says I, suddenly, 
‘Captain, there is a white horse#in front, by gum!’ 


166 CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 

“A sort of hoarse cry came from the captain, and he 
spurred his horse agin, although the critter was going at 
its best speed. They war two miles from us yet, but I 
could soon make out as the white horse and another was a 
bit ahead, then came eight or ten In jins in a clump, and a 
hundred or more straggling out behind. It seemed to me 
as they war all going slow, as if the horses war dead beat; 
but what scared me most was to see as the clump of Injins 
war gaining on the two ahead of them, one of whom I felt 
sure now was the captain’s daughter, and the other I 
guessed was Dick. 

“The captain saw it too, for he gave a strange sort of 
cry. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘they will overtake her.’ We 
war still a mile from them, when we saw suddenly the man 
in front — this chap Dick here — part sudden from the white 
horse, wheel straight round, and go right back at the 
In jins. They separated as he came to them. We saw two 
fall from their horses, and the wind presently brought the 
sound of the cracks of pistols. There war no ‘Colts,’ in 
those days, but I knew that Dick carried a brace of double- 
barreled pistols in his holsters. Then the others closed 
round him. 

“ There was a sort of confusion ; we could see tomahawks 
waving, and blows given, and when it was over there Avar 
but four Injins out of the eight to be seen on their horses. 
But the white horse had gained a hundred yards while the 
tight Avas going on, and the Injins saAV that Ave Avar a-com- 
ing on like a hurricane, so they turned their horses and 
galloped back again. 

“Three minutes later the captain’s daughter rode up. 
She Avar as Avhite as death, and the captain had just time 
to leap off and catch her as she fainted dead away. The 
rest of us didn’t stop, you bet; Ave just gave a cheer and 
on we Avent, and the Dakotas got a lesson that day as they 
will remember as long as they are a tribe. Their horses 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


167 


were so dead beat they had scarcely a gallop in them, while 
ours were fresh, and I don’t think ten of the varmints got 
away. 

“We didn’t draw rein till it was dark, and next morning 
we counted two hundred and fifteen dead redskins on the 
plains. The first thing in the morning, Rube and me rode 
back to where the fight began, to give Dick a burial. We 
looked about, but couldn’t find him. There was Black 
Dog, with one of his bullets through his forehead, two 
others shot through the body, and one with his skull stove 
in with a blow from Dick’s rifle, which was lying there 
with the stock broken. So we supposed the captain had 
had him carried to the fort, and we rode on there. 

“ When we got there we found as he was alive. It seems 
at the moment the captain’s daughter recovered from her 
faint she insisted on going back with the captain to see if 
Dick was alive. They found him well-nigh dead. He had 
got an arrow through the body, and two desperate clips 
with tomahawks, and had been scalped, but he was still 
breathing. There war no one else nigh, for every man 
had ridden on in pursuit; but they managed, somehow, 
between them, to get him upon the captain’s horse. The 
captain he rode in the saddle and held him in his arms, 
while his daughter led her horse back to the fort. There 
they dressed his wounds, and put wet cloths to his head, 
and watched him all night. 

“In the morning he was quite delirious. Fortunately 
the captain considered that after the way they had licked 
the redskins the day before there was no absolute necessity 
for evacuating the fort; so the troops cut turf and made 
huts, and parties were sent off to the nearest timber to 
bring in boughs for roofs, and there we stopped, and in six 
weeks Dick was about again with his wig on his head. 

“You will wonder whar he got his wig from, seeing as 
that sort of thing ain’t a product of the plains; but he is 


168 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR . 


■wearing his own hair. Among the fust of the Injins we 
overtook and killed was a chap with Dick’s scalp hanging 
at his girdle, and when it was known as he was alive they 
searched and found it; and one of the soldiers who was 
fond of collecting bird-skins, and such like, just preserved 
it in the same way, and whenJDick was able to go out again 
he presented him with his own scalp. So if any one says 
to Dick as he ain’t wearing his own hair, Dick can tell him 
he is a liar. 

“ Lor’, how grateful that gal was to Dick ; he never was 
a particular good-looking young fellow, and he wasn’t im- 
proved by the scrimmage, but I believe if he had axed her 
she would have given up everything and settled down as a 
hunter’s wife.” 

Dick growled an angry denial. 

“Well, mate, it may be not quite that, but it war very 
nigh it. It was downright pretty to see the way she hung 
about him, and looked after him, just for all the world as 
if she had been his mother, and he a sick child. The cap- 
tain, too, didn’t know how to make enough of Dick; and 
as for the men, they would have done anything for him 
for having saved the life of Queen May. I heard, three or 
four years afterward, as she married the young officer who 
was in command of the horse-soldiers at the next fort.” 

“But tell me,” Frank said, “how did Dick manage to 
get her away from the Indians?” 

“That,” Abe said, “he’d better tell you himself, seeing 
as concerning that part of the business he knows more nor 
I do. Now, Dick, speak out.” 

“ There ain’t much to tell,” Dick said gruffly, taking 
the pipe from his mouth. “Directly as we got back to 
camp, and I found she had gone, it seemed to me as I had 
got to follow her; and my eye lighting on the loose horse, 
I soon managed to catch the critter, and, shifting my sad- 
dle to it, I started. As you may guess, there war no diffi- 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


169 


culty in following the trail. They had ridden all night, 
though they knew there was no chance of their being pur- 
sued. But about fifty miles from the fort I came upon 
their first halting-place; they had lit fires and cooked food 
there, and had waited some hours. 

“The ashes were still warm, and I guess they had left 
about four hours afore I arrived; so I went on more care- 
fully, knowing that if I threw away my life there was no 
chance of recovering the gal. I guessed, by the direction 
which they were taking, they were going to Black Dog’s 
village; and, after going a bit further on the trail to make 
sure, I turned olf, and went round some miles, in case they 
should have left any one to see if they war followed. I 
knew where the village was, for I had been hunting near it. 

“I camped out on the plains for the night, and next day 
rode to within five miles of the village, which was among 
the hills. I left my horse in a wood where there was 
water, and taking my rifle and pistols went forward on foot 
to the village and arrived there after dark. As I expected, 
I found the hull place astir. A big fire was blazing in the 
center; on a pole near it hung the scalps they had taken, 
and they were a-dancing round it and howling and yelling. 
I didn’t see any signs of the gal; but as there were two 
redskins with their rifles hanging about the door of a wig- 
wam next to that of the chief, I had no doubt she was 
there. 

“ This wigwam was in the center of the village, and there 
were lots of old squaws and gals about, so that I could not, 
for the life of me, see any way of stealing her out. Next 
night I went back to the camp and watched, but the more 
I thought on it, the more difficult it seemed. The second 
night I catched an Injin boy who was wandering outside 
the camp. I choked him, so that he couldn’t hollo, and 
carried him off; and when I got far enough away I ques- 
tioned him, and found that in two days there was to be a 


170 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


grand feast, and Black Dog was then going to take the 
white gal as his squaw. So I saw as there was no time to 
he lost. I strapped up the Indian boy and tied him to a 
tree, and then went back to the village. 

“ This time the gal was sitting at the door of the tent. 
I crept up behind, cut a slit in the skins, and got inside. 
As I expected, there was no one in there, the squaws as 
was watching her was outside; so I crept up close to the 
entrance, and I says to her, ‘Hush! don’t move, your 
scout Dick is here.’ She gave a little tremble when I 
began, and then sat as still as a mouse. 

“ Says I, ‘I don’t see no plan for getting you away secret, 
you are watched altogether too close, the only plan is to 
make a race for it. There ain’t many horses on the plain 
as can beat that mustang of yours, and I know you can 
ride him barebacked. Do you take a head of maize now, 
and walk across to where he is picketed, and feed and pat 
him; then to-morrow morning early do the same. They 
won’t be watching very closely, for they will think you are 
only going to do the same as to-night. I have put an open 
knife down behind you. You cut his rope, jump on his 
back, and ride straight; I will join you at the bottom of 
the valley. They may overtake us, but they won’t hurt 
you; if they do catch you, they will just bring you back 
here again, and you will be no worse off than you are now. 
Will you try?’ The gal nodded, and I crept away out of 
sight. 

“A few minutes afterward I saw her going along with 
some ears of maize to where the horses were tied up. Two 
Indians followed her at a little distance, but she walked 
across so natural that I don’t think they had any suspicion; 
she fed the horse, and talked to it, and petted it, and then 
went back to the village. Next morning before daylight, 
I mounted my horse and rode to the mouth of the valley, 
a quarter of a mile from the village. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


171 


“ Half an lionr after daylight I heard a yell, and almost 
directly afterward the sounds of a horse’s hoofs in full gal- 
lop. I rode out, and along she came as hard as the horse 
could go. Three or four mounted Indians war just com- 
ing into the other end of the valley four hundred yards 
away. 

“‘All right, Queen May, we have got a fine start,’ says 
I, and then we galloped along together. ‘Not too fast,’ I 
told her, ‘it ain’t speed as will win the race. There is a 
long hundred miles between us and the fort. We must 
keep ahead of them varmints for a mile or two, and then 
they will settle down.’ 

“ For the first five or six miles we had to ride fast, for 
the redskins tried the speed of their horses to the utmost; 
but none of them gained anything on us, indeed we widened 
the gap by a good bit. You see at first they only thought 
it w T as a wild scheme on the part of the gal, and the first as 
started jumped on the first horses that came to hand; it 
wasn’t till they saw me that they found it was a got-up 
thing. One of the first lot galloped back with the news. 
But by the time the alarm was spread, and the chase really 
taken up in earnest, we was a good mile away, and a mile 
is a long start. 

“Black Dog and some of his best-mounted braves rode 
too hard at first. Ef we had only had a short start they 
would have catched us, perhaps; but a mile’s start was 
too much to be made up by a rush, and so Black Dog 
should have known ; but I reckon he was too mad at first 
to calculate. By hard riding he and his best-mounted 
braves got within half a mile of us when we war about ten 
miles from the village. But by that time, as you may 
guess, the steam was out of their horses, while we had 
been riding at a steady gallop. 

“The first party that had started had now tailed away, 
and was as far back as the chief. It was safe to be a long 


m 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


chase now, and I felt pretty sure as the gal would escape, 
for her mustang was a beautiful critter, and the captain 
had given a loug price for it; besides, it was carrying no 
weight to speak of. I didn’t feel so sure about myself, 
for though my horse was a first-class one, and had over 
and over again, when out hunting, showed herself as fast 
as any out, there might be as good ones or better among 
the redskins, for anything I knew. When we were fairly 
out on the plains, I could see that pretty nigh the whole 
tribe of redskins had joined in the chase. 

“At first I couldn’t make out why; for although they 
are all wonderful for bottom, some of the redskins’ horses 
ain’t much for speed, and many of them could never have 
hoped to have come up with us. But when I thought it 
over, I reckoned that seeing I had joined the gal, they 
might have thought that I had brought her news that the 
captain, with all the soldiers from the fort, was coming up 
behind, and I expect that’s why the chief and his braves 
rode so fast at first. 

“I don’t know as I ever passed a longer day than that. 
We went at a steady gallop, always keeping just about half 
a mile ahead of the redskins. Sometimes I jumped off my 
horse and ran alongside of him with my hand on the 
saddle for half a mile, to ease him a bit. The gal rode 
splendidly; the mustang had a beautiful easy pace, and she 
set him as if she was in a chair. For the first fifty miles 
I don’t think the redskins gained a yard on us; they 
warn’t pressing their horses more than we were, for it was 
a question only of last now. Then little by little I could 
see that a small party was leaving the rest and gaining slowly 
upon us; I darn’t press my horse further, but I began to 
give the gal instructions as to the course she should keep. 

“‘What does it matter, Dick,’ she asked, ‘when you are 
here to guide me?’ ‘But I mayn’t be with you all the 
time,’ says I; £ it air quite possible that them redskins will 


CAPTAIN BATLEY'S HEIR. 


173 


overtake me twenty miles afore I get to the fort, but your 
critter can keep ahead of them easy, he is going nigh as 
light now as when he started ; when they get a bit closer 
to us you must go on alone.’ ‘I shan’t leave you,’ she 
says. ‘Dick, you got into this scrape to save me, and I 
am not going to run away and leave you to be killed; if 
you are taken, I will be taken too.’ 

“‘That would be a foolish thing,’ says I,’ and a cruel 
one, ef you like to put it so. I have risked my life to 
save you, just as I have risked it a score of times before 
on the plains; ef my time has come, it will be a comfort 
to me to know as I have saved you, but ef you were taken 
too I should feel that I had just chucked my life away. 
Besides, you have got to think of the captain ; now that 
your mother has gone you have got to be a comfort to him. 
So you see, miss, ef you was to get taken willful you would 
be doing a bad turn to yerself, and to me, and to yer 
father.’ 

“It was a long time before she spoke again, and then she 
didn’t say anything about what we had been talking of, 
but began to ask whether I thought we were sure to find 
the soldiers still at the fort. In course I couldn’t say for 
sartin, but, to cheer her up, I talked hopeful about it, 
though I thought it was likely enough they had fallen back 
on the settlements. I did some long spells of running 
now, and got more hopeful, for the Injins didn’t gain any- 
thing to speak of. 

“We war all going very slow now, for the horses were 
pretty nigh beat. We had crossed two or three streams by 
the way, and at each they had had a few mouthfuls of 
water. It wasn’t till we were within ten miles of the fort 
that the Injins really began to gain. They must have felt 
that there was a good chance of our slipping through their 
fingers, and they determined to catch us if they killed 
every horse in the tribe, 


174 


CAPTAW BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“I tried to urge my critter forward, but he hadn’t got 
it in him; and what frightened me more was that the 
mustang didn’t seem much faster; he had trod in a dog- 
hole when we war about halfway across the plains, and 
must have twisted his foot. I could see now he was going 
a little lame with it. The redskins gained on us bit by 
bit, and were pressing us hard when first we caught sight 
of the fort about four miles away. 

“I had, begun to despair, for they warn’t more than two 
hundred yards behind now. The gal had held on bravely, 
but she was nigh done. Good rider as she was, it was a 
terrible ride for a young gal, and it was only the excitement 
which kept her going; but she was nigh reeling on the 
horse now. Sudden I says to her, ‘Thank God! Miss, 
there are the soldiers; keep up your heart, your father’s 
coming to save you.’ 

“The Injins saw him too, for I heard the war whoop 
behind, and the sound of the horses came nearer and 
nearer. I spurred my horse, and it was the first time I 
had touched him since we started, but it wasn’t no good. 
‘Ride, Queen May, ride for your life!’ I cried out; but 
I don’t think she heard me. She was looking straight 
forward now at the sojers; her face was like death, and 
with a hard set look on it, and I expected every moment 
to see her drop from her horse. 

“I saw as it was all up; the redskins war but fifty yards 
behind, and were gainin’ fast upon us. So I says, ‘Thar’s 
your father, miss, ride on for his sake,’ then I turns my 
horse, and, with a pistol in each hand, I rides back at the 
redskins. The gal told me afterward that she did not 
hear me speak, that she didn’t know I had turned, and 
that all that time after she had first caught sight of the 
sojers seemed a dream to her. 

“ I don’t remember much of the scrimmage. Black Dog 
was the first redskin I met, and I hit him fair between the 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIN 


175 


eyes; arter that it was all confusion, I threw away my 
pistols, and went at them with my rifle. I felt as if a hot 
iron went through my body, then there was a crash on my 
head, and I remember nothing more until I found myself 
lying, as weak as a baby, in the hut in the fort, with Queen 
May a-sitting working beside the bed. So, as you see, it 
aim t much of a story.” 

“I call it a great deal of a story,” Frank said; “I would 
give a great deal to have done such a thing.” 

“Well, shut up, and don’t say no more about it,” Dick 
growled, “ef you want us to keep friends. Abe’s always 
a-lugging that old story out, and he knows as I hates it 
like pizen. We have had more than one quarrel about it, 
and this is the last time, by gosh, as ever I opens my lips 
*Wit it. Pass over the liquor, I am dry.” 


r 


176 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE ATTACK OH THE CARAVAH. 

Although great uneasiness had been caused by the 
reports as to the Indians, the members of the caravan were 
in good spirits. So far the journey had been a success. 
The difficulties met with in crossing streams and bad bits 
of ground had been considerable, but were no greater than 
they had looked for. The animals bad preserved their 
health and condition. The supply of fresh meat had been 
regular, and all were in excellent health. The rise of 
ground had been so gradual that it had scarcely been felt; 
hut they were now at a considerable height above the sea, 
and the brisk clear air braced their nerves, and enabled 
even the feeblest to stand the fatigue without inconvenience. 

One day when Frank was out alone with Dick on the 
north of the line of march, they came within sight of some 
buffalo grazing, and Frank was about to set spurs to his 
horse when his companion suddenly checked him. 

“What is it?” Frank said in surprise. “They don’t 
see us, and if we follow that hollow we shall be able to get 
close to them before they can catch sight of us.” 

“That’s so,” Dick said, “but just at present it air a 
question of something more serious than bufflars, it air a 
question of In jins.” 

“Indians!” Frank exclaimed, gazing round in every 
direction. “Where, Dick? I see no signs of them.” 

“No, and if you were to look round all day you wouldn’t 
see ’em; they are at your feet.” 


CAPTAIN BA TINT'S HEIU. 


m 


Frank looked down in surprise. 

“I can see nothing,” he said, after a minute examination 
of the ground. 

“It’s thar, though,” Dick said, throwing himself off his 
horse. “Look at this soft piece of ground; that is a hoof- 
print, and there is another and another.” 

Frank also dismounted and examined the ground. 

“Yes,” he said, “I can see a number of hoof-prints now 
you point them out. But how do you know that they are 
Indian prints?” 

“Because they are unshod; besides, you see, instead of 
coming along in a crowd, as a drove of turned loose horses 
would do, the marks are all together, one after the other, 
as they came along in single file. There is no doubt they 
are a party of Indians.” 

“They are ahead of us,” Frank said. 

“ They were,” Dick said, “but thar ain’t no saying where 
they are now; maybe watching us.” 

The thought was not a comfortable one, and Frank 
grasped his rifle tightly as he looked round. 

“Just stay where you are,” Dick said; “we are in a 
hollow, and I will have a look round.” 

Dick made his way upon his hand and knees to the top 
of the brow, cnoosing a spot where the shrubs grew thickest, 
and making his way with such caution that Frank could 
scarcely keep him in sight. When he reached the brow he 
raised his head and looked round in all directions and then 
went on. It was nearly half an hour before he rejoined 
his companion. 

“They have gone straight ahead,” he said. “I went 
over the brow, and down the next hollow, and found their 
trail strong there, for the ground is swampy; they had 
certainly passed within an hour of the time I got there.” 

“How did you know that?” Frank asked. 

“Because the water was still muddy where they had 


178 


0 APT AIN BA YLBY’S HEIR. 


passed; it would have settled again in an hour after being 
disturbed, so they could not have been more than that 
time ahead. They were keeping just parallel with the line 
of march of the caravan.” 

“How many of them do you think there were?” 

“Between fifty and sixty,” Dick said confidently. 

“Perhaps they were merely journeying quietly along,” 
Frank suggested. 

“Not likely,” Dick replied; “they must have seen these 
bufflars, and would have been after them, almost to a sar- 
tinty, had they not had other business on hand. No, I 
expect they were watching the caravan and had made up 
their minds to wait till nightfall, or perhaps till it came to 
some place where they can get up close without being seen, 
and fall upon it by surprise. We will ride back at once 
with the news, and put them on their guard.” 

An hour’s riding brought them to the caravan, where 
their news created a great sensation. Hitherto the danger 
from Indians had appeared a remote trouble, which might 
not, after all, befall them. The news that fifty or sixty of 
these dreaded foes were marching along, almost within sight, 
and might at any moment attack them, brought the dan- 
ger close indeed. The wagons were driven in even closer 
order; the women and children were told to keep between 
the lines; the men distributed themselves among the teams, 
ready to unyoke the oxen at the shortest notice, and to 
form the wagons in order of defense. Abe and his com- 
panions had not yet returned ; but a quarter of an hour 
later they were seen galloping toward the camp. 

“ You must keep close together and look spry,” Abe 
shouted as he approached; “we have come upon signs of 
a large body of Indians, a hundred and fifty or two hun- 
dred strong, I reckon, out there on the plains. They have 
passed along this morning, and ain’t up to no good, I 
expect.” 


CAPTAIN PAYLEY’S HEW. 


m 


“We have found signs of a smaller party, Abe, some 
fifty or sixty, on our left; these were marching straight 
along, pretty well iu the line we are going.” 

“Then,” Abe said, “'ye had best look to yer guns, for 
they mean mischief; they must have been watching us this 
morning when we started, but concluded that the ground 
was too level, and that we should have time to get into 
position before they could get up to us, besides we had all 
the advantage in the stockades at the station. There ain’t 
no station this evening.” 

“Do you think they will attack us on the road?” Frank 
asked. 

“ That will depend on whether they think they can take 
us unawares. Get on yer horses again. Dick, do you 
ride half a mile ahead of the caravan, don’t keep in the 
hollows, but follow the line of the brow on the right. 
Young Frank and I will scout half a mile out on the right 
of the caravan ; Kube and Jim, you go the same distance 
on the left; that way we can see them coming, and the 
teamsters will have plenty of time to form up the wagons. 
But I don’t reckon as they will attack; when they sees as 
we are on the lookout they will guess we have come across 
their tracks, and will see that their chances of a surprise 
are gone for the day.” 

“Do you think they will attack us to-night?” Frank 
asked his companions. 

“They may, and they may not. As a general thing 
these Plain In jins are not fond of night attacks; it’s part 
superstition, no doubt, and part because they are much 
more at home on horseback than on foot. Still there’s 
never no saying with an Injin; but I should say, lad, that 
they ain’t likely to do that yet. They will try other ways 
fust. They knows as how they have got plenty of time, 
and can choose their opportunity, if it’s a month hence. 
They are wonderful patient, are the redskins, and time air 


180 


C APT AW BAYLRY’S HEIR. 


of no account to them; but at present I think the most 
dangerous times will be after we have camped and before 
night comes' on, and at daybreak before we makes our 
start.” 

Two more days passed quietly, and a feeling of hope 
pervaded the caravan that the Indians had ridden on and 
sought for other prey. But Abe assured them that they 
must not relax their precautions, and that the failure of 
the Indians to attack was no proof whatever that they had 
abandoned their intention to do so. 

“An Injin is always most dangerous just when you ain’t 
thinking of him. You may be sure we have been watched, 
although we haven’t seen no one, and that seeing as we are 
on guard they are waiting for us to become careless again; 
or it may be they have fixed upon their place of attack, 
and if so, you may bet yer life it is a good one. Above all 
things you men impress upon the women and children that 
in case of a sudden attack they shall each take refuge at 
once in the wagons, in the places allotted to them, and 
that they shall do it without any squealing or yelling; 
there’s nothing bothers men and flurries them, just as they 
have got need to be cool and steady, as the yelping of a 
pack of women. Just impress on them as it does no good, 
and adds to the chances of their getting their throats cut 
and their bar raised.” 

The hunter’s orders were very strongly impressed upon 
the women and children, and even the latter were made to 
feel thoroughly the importance of silence in case of an 
attack. 

Upon the following day they came upon a spot where 
the trail crossed a deep hollow; the sides were extremely 
steep, the bottom flat and swampy. Bough attempts had 
been made by preceding travelers to reduce the steepness 
of the bank, but it was in no way improved thereby; the 
upper edge was indeed more gradual, but the soil cut away 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LET'S EEtR. 


181 


there, and shoveled down, had been softened by subsequent 
rains, while the torn surface of the bottom, and the deep 
tracks left by the wheels, showed how the teams had strug- 
gled through it. They explored for some little distance up 
and down to see if an easier point for crossing could be 
discovered, but came to the conclusion that the spot at 
which the tracks crossed it was the easiest, as in most 
places the bank had been eaten away by winter rains and was 
almost perpendicular. They had reached this spot late in 
the evening, and prepared to cross soon after daybreak. 

“ You will have to fix up three teams to each wagon,” 
Abe had said, “and take one over at a time. We will be 
out early scouting — for, mind you, this is a likely place to 
be attacked by the redskins; they will know there is a bad 
spot here, and- will guess as you will be in confusion and 
divided, some on one side of the gulch, some on the other. 
Give particular charge to the men to have their rifles 
handy, and to prepare to defend the wagons to the last, 
and pass round word among the women and children not 
to be scared in case of an attack, as we shall drive the 
In jins off handsomely if they come.” 

At daybreak, Abe, Dick, and Frank crossed the gulch, 
the other two hunters remaining behind. 

“ We must not go far from the crossing,” Abe said. 
“We don’t know which way the tarnal critters may 
come, and in case of attack, all our guns will be wanted. 
They will guess as we shall begin to cross the first thing in 
the morning, and that it will take three or four hours to 
get over. So, if they are coming, it will be in a couple of 
hours, so as to catch us divided.” 

They took their station on a rise a few hundred yards 
from the crossing, one of them riding back from time to 
time to see how the operation of crossing was going on. It 
was one immense difficulty. The oxen were mired almost 
up to their chests, and the wagons sunk axle-deep. The 


m 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S EEIP. 


wagons stack fast in spite of the efforts of all the men in 
the party. Frank looked on for some time, and then a 
thought struck him. 

“ Look here, you will never get the wagons on in that 
way, the oxen cannot pull an ounce. The best way will 
he to unyoke them, take them across, and get them up on 
the level ground on the top; then fasten your ropes 
together and hitch them to the wagon. The bullocks, on 
firm ground, can easily pull it across.” 

The suggestion was at once acted upon. The bottom 
was some fifty yards wide, and there were plenty of ropes 
in the wagons which had been brought for lowering them 
down difficult places, and for replacing any of the long rope 
traces which might be broken and worn out. Two of 
these were attached to the wagon, and the oxen were taken 
over and up the further side. A team was attached to 
each rope, and as the whip cracked the ponderous wagon 
was at once set in motion, and was soon dragged through 
the mud and up the incline. 

“ That’s a capital plan of yourn, young fellow,” John 
Little said. “I don’t know how we ever should have got 
across the other way, and I had just made up my mind to 
give it up and move down this hollow till we came to firmer 
ground.” 

Five more wagons were got across in the same manner. 
Suddenly Abe discharged his rifle. 

“What’s the matter?” Frank exclaimed. 

“ Injins,” Abe said briefly. “ Them’s the heads of the 
tarnal cusses just coming over the line of that rise.” 

The spot to where he pointed was about half a mile dis- 
tant, and soon Frank perceived a number of dark objects 
rising above it. Almost at the same instant the sound of 
a gun was heard on the other side of the gulch. 

a They are going to attack both sides at once,” Abe said, 
as they galloped back toward the crossing; “that shows 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


183 


they are strong. If they had any doubts about licking us 
they would have thrown thar whole strength on one party 
or the other.” 

On reaching the wagons they found the men there work- 
ing with all their might to get the six wagons in position, 
side by side across the top of the ascent. The oxen had 
already been taken down into the hollow. 

“That’s right,” Abe shouted, as they leaped from their 
horses and aided in the movement. “ It couldn’t be better. 
Well and steady. You have three or four minutes yet.” 

The wagons were drawn up in two lines with their 
wheels touching, the inner line being on the very edge of 
the descent. The women and children were placed in the 
inner wagons, while the eight men who had come across 
with them, and the three hunters, took their places in the 
outside wagons. 

Almost all the men had been across with the teams when 
the guns were fired, but the remainder had run back to 
aid in the defense of the wagons on the other side. These 
were already in a position of defense, having been so 
arranged before the crossing began. So well had Abe’s 
orders been carried out, that no confusion whatever had 
occurred. At the sound of the guns the women had 
climbed, and helped the children, into the wagons allotted 
to them, and the men, on arriving, quietly took up their 
positions. 

The Indians were not visible until they reached a spot 
about three hundred yards from the wagons. As they 
dashed up the rise they checked their horses. Instead of 
seeiug, as they had expected, everything in confusion and 
dismay, not a soul was visible, and the clumps of wagons 
stood, one on either side, ranged as for defense. However, 
after waiting for three days for their prey, they were not 
to be balked. Their wild war-cry rose in the air, and the 
two bodies of horsemen charged down on the travelers. 


184 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’8 HEIR. 


In an instant a deadly fire broke out, the men kneeling 
in the bottom of the wagons and resting their rifles on the 
rail, the tilt being raised a few inches to enable them to 
see under it. Every shot told among the mass of horsemen. 
The emigrants were all new to Indian warfare, but most of 
them were farmers accustomed from boyhood to the use of 
the rifle, and the coolness of the hunters, and their prep- 
aration for attack, steadied them, and gave them confi- 
dence. Several of the Indians fell at the first discharge, 
but the advance was not checked, and at full speed they 
came on. 

“Steady, lads; don’t throw away a shot,” Abe shouted, 
as the men loaded and discharged their rifles as quickly as 
possible; “see that every bullet tells.” 

Already the Indians were checking the speed of their 
horses, for the position was a most difficult one to attack. 
It could not be surrounded, and, indeed, could only be 
attacked on the face of the outside wagons, from which a 
stream of fire was pouring. As the leaders came on Frank 
and the two hunters, who both, like himself, carried 
revolvers, laid aside their rifles and brought these deadly 
weapons into action, resting them on the rail to secure an 
accurate fire. The quick, sharp cracks of these, followed 
in almost every case by the fall of one of the horsemen in 
front, completed the dismay of the Indians. Quick as 
thought, those who had fallen were lifted across the horses 
of their comrades, and the whole band, turning, galloped 
away at full speed, pursued, as long as they were in sight, 
by the rifle-balls of the defenders of the wagons. 

“So much for them,” Abe said, as he leaped to the 
ground. “Now let us give a hand to our comrades.” 

The fight was still raging on the other side. The num- 
ber of wagons was larger, and the facilities for defense 
less. The wagons were surrounded by a throng of Indians, 
who were cutting at them with their tomahawks, discharg- 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


185 


ing their rifles into the tilts, and some, having thrown 
themselves from their horses, were endeavoring to climb 
up. The defenders were still fighting desperately. They 
had no longer time to load, hut with hatchets and clubbed 
rifles beat down the Indians who tried to climb the wagons. 

A few minutes, however, would have ended the resist- 
ance had not help been at hand. 

From the opposite side of the gulch eleven men poured 
the contents of their rifles among the Indians. One of the 
leading chiefs and four of his followers fell dead, and 
almost before the Indians had recovered from their surprise 
a dropping fire was opened, almost every shot taking effect. 
A cheer broke from the defenders of the wagons, and they 
fought with renewed hope, while the Indians, startled by 
this unlooked-for attack, and by the repulse of their com- 
rades, began to lose heart. ’ 

Only for a few minutes longer did they continue the 
attack. The deadly flank fire proved too much for their 
courage, and soon they too were in full flight, carrying off 
with them their killed and wounded. A shout of triumph 
rose from the two parties of whites, and a scene of wild 
delight took place; the women, now that the excitement 
was over, cried and laughed alternately in hysterical joy; 
the children shouted, while the men grasped each other’s 
hands in fervent congratulation. 

“We all owe our lives to you and your comrades,” John 
Little said to Abe. “ If it had not been for you we should 
all have gone under; and, I tell you, if ever we get across 
these plains we will find some way to show our gratitude. 
As long as John Little has a crust in the world he will 
share it with you.” 

When the excitement had somewhat abated, the work of 
crossing was recommenced, and in two hours all were over 
and the journey was continued. 

“Do you think the Indians will attack us again?” John 
Little asked Abe, when the caravan was set in motion. 


186 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“They will, if they see a chance,” Abe replied. “They 
have lost a lot of men, and will get vengeance if they can. 
It depends partly whether thar big chief was killed or not; 
if he war they may give it np now; they sees as we are 
strong and well-armed. If not, thar chief will do all he 
can to wipe ns out, for. he will be held responsible for the 
affair, and such a defeat would lower his influence in the 
tribe.” 

Five days later they saw some wagons in the distance. 
Since the attack the hunters had not left the caravan, as 
the emigrants all declared that they would far rather go 
without fresh meat than have the hunters absent from the 
camp. A few deer only, which had been seen from the 
line of march, had been stalked and shot. 

“There is a caravan halting ahead,” Frank said. “We 
heard at the last station that one passed ten days back. I 
wonder what they are halting for. The next water, 
according to the distances the station-keeper gave us, must 
he ten miles away.” 

“I don’t like the look of it,” Abe replied. “Traveling 
at about the same rate as we do, they should still be about 
ten days ahead. I am very much afraid that something 
has happened; those varmint we thrashed, or some other, 
may have attacked them.” 

For another mile not a word was spoken; then they 
reached a spot from which the wagons and the ground 
around them was clearly visible. 

“I see no sign of movement,” Abe said to John Little, 
“and thar seems to be a lot of dark objects lying about. 
I will ride forward with my mates. If, as I calculate, 
there has been a massacre, you had better take the wagons 
a detour a mile round, so that the women and children may 
be spared the sight of it. It would be enough to make 
them skeery for the rest of the journey.” 

Abe and his comrades galloped forward, 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


187 


“Have your rifles ready,” the former said; “there may 
be some of the varmint hiding about still, though I don’t 
think it likely. I expect the attack took place some days 
back.” 

On nearing the wagons their apprehensions were verified. 
Around lay the carcasses of .the oxen with bales and boxes 
broken open and rifled of their contents. In and near the 
wagons were the bodies of their defenders, mingled with 
those of the women and children. All had been scalped, 
and the bodies were mutilated with gashes of the toma- 
hawks. No attempt had been made to put the wagons 
into any position of defense; they still stood in a long line, 
as they had been traveling when the Indians fell upon 
them. There were twelve wagons, and they counted 
eighty bodies lying around them. 

“It has been a regular surprise,” Abe said, “and I expect 
there war very little fighting. The Injins burst out on 
them, there war a wild panic, a few shots war fired, and it 
war all over; that’s how I read it. Hillo! what’s that?” 

A deep growl was heard, and turning they saw under a 
bush a mastiff, standing over the body of a child. The 
animal could with difficulty keep its legs; it had been 
pierced by a lance, and had received a blow with a toma- 
hawk on the head which had nearly cut off one of its ears. 
It had doubtless been left for dead, but had recovered 
itself, and crawled to the side of one of the children of the 
family to which it belonged. Its head was covered with 
matted blood, and its tongue hung out, black and parched 
with thirst; but it growled savagely, its hair bristled on 
its back, and it prepared to defend to the last the body of 
its young master. 

“Poor fellow!” Frank said, dismounting. “Poor old 
boy, we are friends.” 

At the kind tones of the voice the dog relaxed the fierce- 
ness of its aspect, it gave a faint whine, and lay down by 


188 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


the child’s body. Frank took off his thick felt hat, filled 
it with water from the skin hanging from his saddle, and 
carried it to the dog. The animal raised itself again with 
an effort, and drank eagerly; when it had finished, it 
thrust its great nose into Frank’s hand and wagged its tail, 
then it returned to the body and gave a piteous howl. 
The tears stood in Frank’s eyes. 

“Lend a hand with your knives,” he said to his com- 
rades, who were looking on; “let us dig a grave for the 
child, then the dog will perhaps follow us; it is a grand 
dog, and I should like to have it.” 

The others dismounted, and with their knives and hands 
they soon scraped a hole in the earth capable of containing 
the body. The mastiff stood by watching their operations. 
Frank doubted whether it would allow him to touch the 
body of the child; but the animal seemed to comprehend 
his intentions, and suffered him to raise the child and lay 
it in the ground. No sooner was the grave filled up than 
the mastiff laid himself down beside it. Frank now offered 
the animal some meat from his wallet, and after this was 
eaten, bathed its head with water and brought the edges of 
the wound together, and bandaged it with a stripTorn from 
his hunting-shirt. 

“Come along, old fellow; come aloug with us, you can 
do no good here.” 

He mounted his horse, and the mastiff rose to its feet 
and stood irresolute, and gave another piteous howl. 

“Will you ride back to the caravan, Abe, and tell them 
there is no danger? I will move slowly with the dog, and 
join them when they get abreast of us.” 

The four men started at a gallop. Frank dismounted 
again and patted the mastiff; then tying his handkerchief 
to its collar, he walked slowly away, leading his horse. 
The mastiff followed at once, walking with difficulty, for 
its hind-legs were almost paralyzed from the spear-wound, 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


189 


‘which had passed through its body just under the spine, 
behind the ribs. It seemed, however, to feel that Frank 
was its master now, and laid its great head in his hand as 
he walked beside it. 

As Frank saw the line on which the caravan was now 
moving, he walked slowly across to it and halted until the 
wagons came up. The mastiff was lifted into one of them, 
and laid on some empty flour-sacks. Some more water was 
given it, and the caravan proceeded on its way. 

The terrible fate which had befallen their predecessors 
cast a deep gloom over the party, who shuddered to think 
how narrowly they had escaped such a fate; there was no 
need now to impress upon any the necessity of avoiding 
straggling, and redoubled vigilance was observed during 
the march. 

Frank attended assiduously to the mastiff, to whom he 
gave the name of Turk. The spear-wound was kept poul- 
ticed, and that in the head was plastered. Had the dog 
received such wounds at any other time they would have 
probably proved fatal; but on the plains wounds heal 
rapidly, and the brisk air and the life of activity and exer- 
cise render man and beast alike able to sustain serious 
injuries without succumbing. 

' In a week Turk was able to walk with the caravan; a 
fortnight later it could gallop by Frank’s side. They were 
now entering the Alkali Plains, a wild and desolate region, 
where water is extremely scarce, and, when found, brackish 
aud bitter to the taste, and where the very shrubs are im- 
pregnated with salt, and uneatable by most animals. In 
anticipation of the hardships to be endured in crossing this 
region, the bullocks had been allowed for some time a daily 
ration of grain in addition to the grass they could pick up 
during the halt, and were therefore in good condition. 

A halt was made for three days before entering this dis- 
trict, and the teams were fresh and full of work when they 


190 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


started. The marches across the salt plain were long and 
painful to man and beast; the dust, which rose in clouds, 
was so impregnated with salt that it caused an intense 
irritation to the lips and nostrils. 

Everything was done as far as possible to alleviate the 
sufferings of the animals. Casks were filled with water at 
each halting-place, and each time the oxen halted for rest 
their mouths and nostrils were sponged, and a small allow- 
ance given them to drink. As they progressed they had 
reason to congratulate themselves on the precautions they 
had taken, for scarce a mile was passed without their com- 
ing across signs of the misfortunes which had befallen those 
who had gone before, in the shape of abandoned wagons, 
stores cast out to lighten the loads, and skeletons of oxen 
and horses. But on the other hand, there was now com- 
paratively slight danger of an Indian attack, for even the 
horses of the redskins, hardy as they are, could not support 
the hardships of a prolonged stay on the Alkali Plains. 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY \S HEIR. 


191 


CHAPTER XIII. 

AT THE GOLD-PIELDS. 

It was with intense delight that all in the caravan 
noticed the gradual change of herbage which showed that 
they were approaching the confines of this terrible region ; 
and when, at their first halt after leaving it, they came 
upon flowing streams, a general bath was indulged in by 
man and beast, the oxen lying down in the water, and 
being with great difficulty induced to emerge from it. 
The hunters now recommenced their excursions in search 
of game, for all were suffering from the want of fresh 
meat, the children especially feeling the privation. 

Turk accompanied the party. The dog was now com- 
pletely restored, and nothing could induce it to leave 
Prank’s side. It was quite young, and Frank soon taught 
it to remain by his horse while he dismounted to stalk 
game; while in pursuit on horseback, Turk often pursued 
and pulled down deer who would otherwise have escaped. 

One day Dick and Frank had gone out alone, and had 
been led a long distance from the line of march in pursuit 
of a herd of deer. These had finally gone up a narrow 
cation in the mountains. The hunters pursued them for 
some distance, and then, despairing of overtaking them, 
turned their horses, and began to retrace their steps. 
Suddenly Turk, who was in advance, stopped, uttered a 
deep growl, and its hair bristled from its head to its tail. 

“What is it, Turk?” Frank asked. 

The animal replied with another low, deep growl. 

“It must be some savage beast,” Frank said. 


192 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“That ain’t likely,” Dick said; “any beast in this cafion 
would have moved away when we passed before. I think 
the dog must scent Injins. A party may have seen us 
entering the gap, and may be in pursuit.” 

He threw himself off his horse, and listened, with his 
ear to the ground. 

“It’s Injins, sure enough!” he exclaimed; “I can hear 
the clattering of horses’ hoofs on the hard rock. There’s 
nothing for it but for us to make our way up the cafion.” 

They turned their horses, and galloped forward, Turk, 
after one more growl in the direction of the Indians, fol- 
lowing. Presently the defile divided. 

“Shall we take the main branch, or the one to the 
right?” Prank asked. 

“Better keep straight on,” Dick said; “the other may 
lead into some valley from which there could be no getting 
out, and we should be caught in a trap. See!” he said, as 
he halted, “the deer have gone that way. Do you see 
some of the pebbles have been thrown out of that little 
stream? 

“Jump off your horse, and cut some bits off your 
blankets and tie them round your horse’s feet. If the 
Indians see no marks going forward they will naturally 
suppose we have turned off here in pursuit of the deer.” 

Frank did what his comrade suggested; but quickly as 
the work was performed, they heard the sound of the 
horsemen in pursuit, loud and distinct, before they again 
set forward. Then, springing on their horses, they rode 
up the cafion. After awhile they halted; the sounds of 
pursuit had ceased, and they had no doubt the Indians had 
turned off into the other ravine. 

“It all depends how far that runs,” Dick said, “how 
soon they will be in pursuit again. If it comes soon to an 
end it will not be long before we have them after us; if it 
goes on for some miles we are safe.” 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY *S HEIR. 


193 


Winding between perpendicular cliffs of great height, 
they rode forward, mounting steadily. It was impossible 
to make rapid progress, for although in some places the 
bottom of the ravine was bare, smooth rock, at others it 
was piled with boulders. 

It was three hours before they emerged from it, and 
upon doing so found they were upon an elevated plateau. 
Before they moved forward, Frank said, “Turk, do you 
hear them?” The dog stood with ears erect and quivering 
nostrils, looking down the ravine which they had just left. 
Presently he gave a low, deep growl. 

“They are coming,” Frank said; “but they must be a 
good way off, for Turk did not hear them at first. Which 
way shall we go, Dick?” 

“We had better turn to the left,” Dick said, “for our 
natural line leads to the right. However, it does not make 
much difference, for they will be able to track us; still, it 
may puzzle them. It will be dark in a couple of hours, 
and if we can keep ahead till then we are safe.” 

They started at a gallop, and for an hour rode at full 
speed in the direction which would take them down to the 
plain at or near the spot where they had halted the night 
before. 

“Look out, Frank! rein up!” Dick suddenly shouted. 
Frank pulled his horse back on its haunches, and but just 
in time, for at the brow of the swell up which they had 
been galloping, the ground fell suddenly away in a preci- 
pice two hundred feet deep, and the horse was barely a 
length from it when he brought it to a standstill. 

“We are in a mess,” Dick said. “The Injins behind us 
will know of this, and instead of following will scatter to the 
right and left, as they will know that we must turn one 
way or the other. 

“In that case,” Frank said, “our best plan will be to go 
straight back.” 


194 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


“Yon are right,” Dick exclaimed, “that is the best thing 
we can do. We won’t follow the exact track, as a few of 
them may have kept onr line, hut will hear a little distance 
off it, and hope they may pass us unseen; the sun is set- 
ting already, half an hour and it will be dark.” 

Taking every precaution to conceal their trail, they rode 
back, keeping a hundred yards or so to the right of the 
line by which they had come. A quarter of an hour passed, 
and then Turk gave his growl of warning. 

“Could not have been better,” Dick exclaimed, “this 
brushwood is just the place for us.” 

They threw themselves from their horses, and made the 
animals lie down at full length in the low bushes, and laid 
themselves down beside them. 

“Hush! Turk,” Frank said to the dog, as he laid his 
hand upon its head. “You must lie quiet, sir, and not 
make the least noise.” 

The dog, who was quivering with excitement, lay down 
quietly, as if it comprehended the need for silence. 

“ One, two, three, four, five, six,” Dick counted, peering 
through the bushes. “ Six of them ; we could fight that 
lot easy, hut the sound of our rifles would bring the whole 
gang down upon us.” 

The Indians were not riding at full speed, for their horses 
were tired, having already made a long march before they 
saw the hunters following the deer to the canon, and they 
did not expect to overtake those of whom they were in 
pursuit, believing that when they reached the precipice 
they would make along it to the right or left, and so fall 
into the hands of one or other of the parties who had gone 
to intercept them. 

No sooner were they fairly out of sight than the hunters 
rose, and, remounting their horses, continued their way. 
“It’s well-nigh dark,” Dick said, “and I doubt if they will 
be able to make out our back-track when they get to the 
edge; at any rate they cannot follow it.” 


CAPTAIN BAILEY'S BEIB. 


195 


They rode on until they found that their horses could 
no longer carry them, then, dismounting, led them by the 
bridle. They had been steering by the stars, and presently 
found themselves at the upper end of the ravine. 

“We won’t enter this now,” Dick said, “for some of 
them may take it into their heads to gallop hack, although 
that ain’t very likely. Anyhow the horses can’t go any 
further, and if they could, we couldn’t make our way over 
these stones, it’ll be as dark as pitch down there. So we 
will move away two hundred yards and let the horses feed 
while we get a few hours’ sleep. That dog of yourn will 
give us notice if any of the varmint are coming this way.” 

The night passed without alarm, and at the first dawn 
of light they were upon their feet again. The horses were 
given a mouthful of water from the skins, and then the 
hunters mounted and rode down the canon. There would 
be pursuit, they knew well; hut the Indians would not be 
able to take up the trail until daylight, and would he an 
hour and a half following it to the top of the canon, so 
that they had fully two hours’ start. This being the case, 
they did not hurry their horses, but kept up a steady pace 
until they emerged at the lower end of the ravine: then 
they urged them forward, and two hours later arrived at 
the halting-place of the caravan. No move had been made, 
hut the instant they were seen approaching, Abe and his 
two comrades rode up to meet them. 

“What has happened?” he asked, as he reached them. 
“We have been terrible uneasy about you, and I was just 
going to start to try and pick up your track and follow 
you.” 

Dick related the adventure. 

“It war well it war no worse,” Abe said. “That crit- 
ter’s sense has saved your lives, for ef he hadn’t given you 
warning you would have ridden slap into the hands of the 
In jins; you may consider you are quits with him now, 


196 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


Frank. But it war a nasty fix, and I congratulate you both 
on having brought your liar safely back to camp; that 
coming straight back on your trail when you was stopped 
by the fall of the ground was a judgmatical business.” 

“It was Frank’s idea,” Dick said. 

“Wall, he just hit the right thing; if it hadn’t been 
for that you would have been rubbed out sure.” 

At the next halting-place they found that three or four 
of the caravans which had preceded them had halted, being 
afraid to move foward in small parties, as the Indians had 
made several attacks. With the accession of force given 
by the arrival of John Little’s party, they considered them- 
selves able to encounter any body of redskins they might 
meet, as there were now upward of fifty wagons collected, 
with a fighting force of seventy or eighty men. 

They therefore moved forward confidently. Several 
times parties of Indian horsemen were seen in the distance, 
but they never showed in force, the strength of the caravan 
being too great for any hope of a successful attack being 
made upon it. 

It was nearly five months from the time of their leaving 
Omaha before the caravan approached the point where the 
great plateau of Nevada falls abruptly down to the low 
lands of California many thousand feet below. Here the 
hunters bade farewell to the emigrants, whom they had so 
long escorted. All danger of Indians had been long since 
passed, and they were now within a short distance of the 
gold regions. 

Very deep and sincere were the thanks which were 
poured upon them by the emigrants, who felt that they 
owed their lives entirely to the vigilance and bravery of 
Abe and his companions. They expected to meet again 
erelong at the gold-fields, and many were the assurances 
that should by any chance better luck attend their search 
than was met with by the hunters, the latter should share 
in their good fortune. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR . 


■ 19 ? 


The change in the character of the scenery was sudden 
and surprising. Hitherto the country had been hare and 
treeless, but the great slopes of the Nevada mountains 
were covered from top to bottom with a luxuriant growth 
of timber. Nowhere in the world are finer views to be 
obtained than on the slopes of the Nevada mountains. 
The slopes are extremely precipitous, and sometimes, 
standing on a crag, one can look down into a valley five or 
six thousand feet below, clothed from top to bottom with 
luxuriant foliage, while far away in front, at the mouth 
of the valley, can be seen the low, rich flats of California. 

On the lower slopes of these mountains lay the gold 
deposits. These were found m great beds of gravel and 
clay, which in countless generations had become so hardened 
that they almost approached the state of conglomerate. 
The gold from these beds had been carried either by 
streams which ran through them, or by the action of rain 
and time, into the ravines and valleys, where it was found 
by the early explorers. These great beds of gravel have 
been since worked by hydraulic machinery, water being 
brought by small canals, or flumes, many miles, along the 
face of the hills, to reservoirs situated one or two hundred 
feet above the gravel to be operated upon. 

From the reservoirs extremely strong iron pipes lead 
down to the gravel, and to the end of these pipes are fitted 
movable nozzles, like those of fire-engines, but far larger. 
The water pours out through these nozzles with tremen- 
dous force, breaking up the gravel, and washing it away 
down a long series of wooden troughs, in which the gold 
settles, and is caught by a variety of contrivances. 

But in the early days of gold discovery the very existence 
of these beds of gravel was unknown, and gold was obtained 
only in the ravines and valleys by washing the soil in the 
bottom. It had already been discovered that the soil was 
richer the further the searchers went down, by far the 


198 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


greater finds being made when the diggers reached the 
solid rock at the bottom, in the irregularities of which, 
worn by water thousands of years before, large quantities 
of rough gold were often discovered? 

There was no difficulty in following the track through 
the forest, and after two days’ traveling the party arrived 
at the first mining village. They chose a piece of ground 
for their camp, fastened their horses to stumps, erected a 
tent of blankets, and placed in it the stores brought on 
their baggage-horses, whch had remained untouched since 
they started. Then, leaving one of their number in 
charge, they started off to visit the diggings. 

The whole of the bottom of the narrow valley was a 
scene of life and bustle. The existence of gold in the 
valley had been discovered but three weeks before, but a 
rush had taken place from other diggings. The ground 
had been allotted out, and a number of tents pitched, and 
rough huts erected. Men were working as if for bare life. 
The lots were small, and the ground was already perfectly 
honeycombed with holes. Generally the diggers worked 
in batches of four or five, each member of which took up 
a claim, so that the space for operations was enlarged. 

Two men labored with pick and shovel, and the baskets, 
as they were filled with earth and sand, were first screened 
in a sieve to remove the larger portion of stones and rock, 
and were then poured into what was known as a cradle, 
which was a long trough on rockers; one man brought 
water in buckets from the stream, and poured it into this, 
while another kept the cradle in constant motion. The 
mud and lighter portions of stone flowed away over the 
edge or were swept off by the hand of the men employed 
in working it, the particles of gold sinking to the bottom 
of the machine, where they were found at the clean-up at 
the end of the day’s work. 

The newcomers looked on with great interest at the 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


199 


work, asking questions as to the luck which attended the 
operators. The majority gave hut a poor account of their 
luck, the value of the finds at the end of the day being 
barely sufficient to pay the enormous rate charged for pro- 
visions, which had to be carried up from the coast some 
hundreds of miles away. The stores were brought in 
wagons as far as Sacramento, and from that town were 
carried to the diggings on the backs of mules and horses. 
Consequently it was impossible for a man to live on the 
poorest necessities of life for less than three or four dollars 
a day, and in the out-of-the-way valleys the cost was often 
considerably more. 

Some of the diggers owned that they were doing well, 
but there was a general disinclination to state even the 
approximate amount of their daily winnings. The hunters 
found, however, that the general belief was that some of 
those who had claims in the center of the valley, where 
of course the gold would settle the thickest, were making 
from ten to twenty ounces per day. 

“That’s something like!” Dick said. “Just fancy mak- 
ing from forty to eighty pounds per day. I vote we set to 
work at once. As well here as anywhere else.” 

“Yes, I suppose we may as well begin here,” Frank 
agreed; “at any rate until we hear what is being done in 
the other places. But you see we must be ready to move 
off as soon as a report comes of some fresh discovery, so as 
to get good places. Here, of course, we must be content 
to settle down outside the rest. We will mark out five 
claims at once, turn up the ground, and put our tools there; 
they say that’s sufficient to take possession. Then we will 
go up into the forests and cut down a pine or two, and slit 
it up into planks for making one of those cradles. That 
will take us all day to-morrow, I reckon.” 

As they sat round the fire that evening, talking over 
their prospects, Abe said ; 


200 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


“I tell you what it is, mates, I have been thinking this 
here matter over, and when I sees what tremendous prices 
are being charged for grub here, I concluded there must 
be a big thing to be made in the way of carrying. Now 
we have got our five riding-horses, and the three baggage- 
horses, that makes eight. Now what I proposes is this; 
three of us shall work the claims, and the other two shall 
work the horses; we can sell the riding-saddles (jjown at 
Sacramento, and get pack-saddles instead. We can begin 
by carrying for one of the traders here. 

“I hear that a horse can earn from five to ten dollars a 
day, so our eight horses will earn forty to eighty dollars a 
day. Now that’s a good sartin living for us all, especially 
as we shall bring up the provisions for ourselves, instead of 
paying big rates here. Arterards we will see how things 
go, and if we like we can open a store here, and one of us 
mind it. Anyhow the horses will keep us well. If the 
claim turns out well, so much the better; if it don’t, we 
can do very well without it. I proposes as we take it by 
turns to drive the horses and dig.” 

The counsel was good and prudent, but it was only 
adopted after some discussion, for the sums which the 
more fortunate diggers were earning were so large that all 
looked forward to making a rapid fortune, and were 
inclined to despise the small but steady gains offered by 
the plan Abe suggested. However, Frank sided with Abe, 
and offered to go with him on the first trip to Sacramento, 
and the others thereupon fell in with the plan. 

The next day the cradle was made by Abe and Frank, 
the others setting to to dig and wash out in a bucket. At 
the end of a day of hard work they had got about a quarter 
of an ounce of glittering yellow dust. This was not pay- 
ing work, but they were not disappointed; they had not 
expected to strike upon good ground at the first attempt, 
and were quite satisfied by the fact that they really had 
met with the gold which they had come so far to seek. 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


201 


That evening Abe made a bargain to bring up goods from 
Sacramento for one of the store-keepers, having previously 
found the rate which was current. At daybreak next 
morning he and Frank started off on horseback, each with 
three horses tied, head and tail, behind the one he was rid- 
ing, Turk marching gravely by their side. 

The distance to Sacramento was upward of seventy miles. 
On their road they met numerous parties making their way 
up the mountains. All carried a pick and shovel, a bucket 
and blanket, and a small sack with flour and bacon. Many 
of them were sailors, who had deserted from their ships at 
San Francisco, where scores of vessels were lying unable to 
leave for want of hands. 

All, as they passed, asked the last news from the dig- 
gings, where the last rush was, and what was the average 
take at the camp, and then hurried on, eager to reach the 
spot where, as every man believed, fortune awaited him. 

Two days of travel down the mountains took them to 
Sacramento. Here their saddles were disposed of, and 
pack-saddles bought. The horses were laden with sacks 
of sugar and flour, sides of bacon, and mining tools, 
and after a day’s stay in town they started back for the 
camp. 

Sacramento, but a few months before a sleepy, quiet 
city, mostly inhabited by Spaniards, or rather people 
of Spanish descent, was now a scene of animation and 
bustle. Long teams of wagons, laden with stores, rolled 
in almost hourly across the plains from San Francisco, 
while the wharves at the river-side were surrounded by 
laden barges. Bands of newly arrived emigrants wandered 
through the streets, asking eager questions of any one who 
had time enough to talk as to the best way of getting to 
the diggings, and as to the camp which they had better 
select for their first attempt. Dark-looking men, half 
Spaniard and half Indian, went along on their little ponies, 


202 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’8 HEIR . 


or rode at the head of a string of laden animals, with an 
air of perfect indifference to the bustle around them. 

Sounds of shouting and singing came through the doors , 
of some saloons, in which many of the fortunate dig- 
gers were busily engaged in dissipating their hard-earned 
gains. Men sunburnt almost to blackness, in red shirts- 
and canvas trousers, walked along the streets as if the town 
and all in it belonged to them in virtue of the store of 
gold-dust tied up in their waist-belts. In these, revolvers 
and bowie-knives were stuck conspicuously, and the newly 
arrived emigrants looked with awe and envy at these men 
who had already reaped a harvest at the mines. Shooting 
affrays were of frequent occurrence in the drinking saloons, 
where at night gambling was invariably carried on, the 
diggers being as reckless of their lives as of their money. 

“ About ten days of that place would be enough to ruin 
any man,” Abe said, as they walked at the head of their 
cavalcade from the town. “ I reckon as Sacramento is a 
sort of hell on arth, and guess there’s more wickedness 
goes on in that ere little town than in any other place its 
own size on -the face of creation. They tells me as San 
Francisco is worse, but at any rate Sacramento is bad 
enough for me.” 

On the evening of the third day after leaving Sacra- 
mento they arrived at the mining camp, and having 
delivered the stores thejf had brought up to the trader, and 
received the amount agreed upon, they took their way to 
the spot where they had pitched their camp. 

“ Well, lads, what luck?” Abe asked, as at the sound of 
their feet their comrades came out to greet them. 

“We have got about four ounces of dust,” Dick said, 
“and our backs are pretty nigh broken, and our hands that 
blistered we can hardly hold the shovel. However, we 
have been better the last two days. I expect there have 
been two or three hundred people arrived here since you 
left, and they are all at work now.” 


CAPTAIN BA TLET '8 HEIR. 203 

“Well, that’s pretty well for a beginning,” Abe said, 
“though you wouldn’t have much of your four ounces left 
if you had had to pay for grub. However, we’ve brought 
up another half-sack of flour, twenty pounds of sugar, and 
five pounds of tea, and a half-side of bacon, so we have got 
quite enough to go on for a long time yet. I have brought 
up, too, a good stout tent, which will hold us comfortable, 
and, after paying for all that, here’s thirty pounds in 
money. I got five pounds a horse-load, so with your earn- 
ings and ours we haven’t made a bad week’s work; that’s 
pretty nigh ten pounds a man. I don’t say that’s any- 
thing wonderful, as times goes here; but when we hit on a 
good spot for our digging, we shall pick it up quick. Now 
let’s pitch the new tent, and then we will have supper, for 
I can tell you walking twenty-five miles in this mountain 
air gives one something like ah appetite.” 


204 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY'S HEIR. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

CAPTAIN BAYLEY. 

During the time which had elapsed between the depar- 
ture of Frank Norris from England, and his arrival at the 
gold-diggings in California, much had happened at home 
which he would have been interested to learn had he main- 
tained any communication with his relatives there. On 
the morning when Frank had been accused by Dr. Litter 
of abstracting the note from his table, the latter had, as he 
had informed Frank he intended to do, sent a note to Cap- 
tain Bayley informing him that a most painful circum- 
stance had taken place with reference to his nephew, and 
begging him to call upon him between twelve and one. 

Captain Bayley had done so, and had, as Fred Barkley 
stated, been furious at the news which the doctor conveyed 
to him; his fury, however, being in no degree directed 
toward his nephew, but entirely against the head-master 
for venturing to bring so abominable an accusation against 
Frank. 

The evidence which Dr. Litter adduced had no effect 
whatever in staying his wrath, and so vehement and angry 
was the old officer, that Dr. Litter was obliged to ring the 
bell and order the servant to show him out. From Dean’s 
yard he took a cab and drove direct to his solicitor, and 
requested him instantly to take proceedings against the 
head-master for defamation of character. 

“But, Captain Bayley,” the lawyer urged, “we must 
first see whether this gentleman had any reasonable cause 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’ S HEIR . 


205 


for his belief. If the evidence is what may be considered 
as strong, we must accept his action as taken Iona fide .” 

“Don’t tell me, sir,” Captain Bayley exclaimed angrily. 
“ What do I care for evidence? Of course he told me a long 
rigmarole story, but he could not have believed it himself. 
No one but a fool could believe my nephew Frank guilty 
of theft; the idea is preposterous, it was as much as I could 
do to restrain myself from caning him when he was 
speaking.” 

The lawyer smiled inwardly, for Dr. Litter was a tall, 
stately man, six feet two in height, while Captain Bayley 
was a small, slight figure, by no means powerful when in 
his prime, and now fully twenty years the senior of the 
head-master. 

“Well, Captain Bayley,” he said, “in the first place it is 
necessary that I should know the precise accusation which 
this gentleman has brought against your nephew. Will 
you be good enough to repeat to me, as nearly as you can, 
.the statement which he made, as, of course, if we proceed 
to legal measures, we must be exact in the matter?” 

“Well, this is about the story he told me,” Captain 
Bayley said, more calmly. “In the first place, it seems 
that the lad broke bounds one night, and went with a man 
named Perkins — who is a prize-fighter, and who 1 know 
gave him lessons in boxing, for I gave Frank five pounds 
last half to pay for them — to a meeting of these Chartist 
blackguards somewhere in the New Cut. 

“Well, there was a row there, as there naturally would 
be at such a place, and it seems Frank knocked down some 
Radical fellow — a tailor, I believe — and broke his nose. 
Well, you know, I am not saying this was right; still, you 
know, lads will be lads, and I used to be fond of getting 
into a row myself when I was young, for I could spar in 
those days pretty well, I can tell you, Griffith. I would 
have given a five-pound note to have seen Frank set to with 


206 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


that Radical tailor. Still, I dare say, if the lad had told 
me about it I should have got into a passion and blown 
him up.” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised at all,” the lawyer said dryly. 

“No. Well that would do him no harm; he knows me, 
and he knows that I am peppery. Well, it seems this fel- 
low found out who he was, and threatened to report the 
thing to the head-master, in which case this Dr. Litter said 
he should have expelled him for being out of bounds, a thing 
which in itself I call monstrous. Now, here is where 
Frank was wrong. He ought to have come straight to me 
and told me the whole affair, and got his blowing-up and 
his money. Instead of that, he asked three or four of the 
other boys — among them my nephew Fred — to lend him 
the money, but they were all out of funds. Well, some- 
body, it seems, sent Frank a ten-pound note in an envelope, 
with the words ‘From a friend,’ and no more. Frank 
showed the envelope to the others, and they all agreed that 
it was a sort of godsend and Frank sent the note to the 
tailor. Now it seems that the day before Frank got the 
note the head-master, when he was hearing his form had 
put a ten-pound note with some other things on the table, 
and being called out, he, like a careless old fool, left them 
lying there. 

“Some time afterward he missed the note, and does not 
remember taking it up from the table; still, he says, he 
did not suspect any of the boys of his form of taking it, 
and thinking that he had dropped it on the way to his 
house, he stopped the note at the bank, happening to have 
its number. A few days afterward the note was presented ; 
it was traced to the tailor, who admitted having received 
it from Frank; and would you believe it, sir, this man now 
pretends to believe that my nephew stole it from the table, 
and sent it to himself in an envelope. It’s the most pre- 
posterous thing I ever heard.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY >S HEIR. 


207 


Mr. Griffith looked grave. 

“ Of course, Captain Bayley, having met your nephew at 
your house several times, I cannot for a moment believe 
him guilty of taking the note; still, I must admit that the 
evidence is strongly circumstantial, and were it a stranger 
who was accused I should say at once the thing looked 
nasty.” 

“Pooh! nonsense, Griffith,” the old officer said angrily; 
“ there’s nothing in it, sir — nothing whatever. Somebody 
found the note kicking about, I dare say, and didn’t know 
who it belonged to; he knew Frank was in a corner, and 
sent it to him. The thing is perfectly natural.” 

“Yes,” the lawyer assented doubtfully; “but the ques- 
tion is, who did know it? Was the fact of your nephew 
requiring the money generally, known in the school?” 

“ No,” Captain Bayley admitted. “ The doctor examined 
the four boys before Frank. They all declared that they 
knew nothing of the note; and that they had not mentioned 
the circumstance to a soul; but my opinion is that one of 
them is a liar.” 

“It is certainly necessary to believe,” Mr. Griffith said 
slowly, “that one of them is either a liar or a thief. Of 
course there may be some other solution of the matter, but 
the only one that I can see, just at the present moment, is 
this: Your nephew is the sort of lad to be extremely popu- 
lar among his schoolmates; either one of these four boys 
took the note from the master’s table, with the good- 
natured but most mistaken idea of getting him out of a 
scrape, or they must have mentioned his need of money to 
some of their school-fellows, one of whom finding the note, 
perhaps in the yard, where the head-master may have 
dropped it, sent it to Frank to relieve him of the difficulty. 

“ These are possible solutions of the mystery, at any rate. 
But if you will take my advice, Captain Bayley, you will 
not, in the present state of affairs, take the steps which 


208 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


you propose to me against Dr. Litter. It will be time 
enough to do that when your nephew’s innocence is finally 
and incontestably proved. Of course,” he said, seeing 
that his listener was about to break out again, “you and I 
knowing him, know that he is innocent; but others who 
do not know him might entertain some doubt upon the 
subject, and a jury might consider that the doctor was 
justified, with the evidence before him, in acting as he did, 
in which case an immense deal of damage might be done 
by making the matter a subject of general talk.” 

With some difficulty Captain Bayley was persuaded to 
allow his intention to rest for awhile. 

“It is late now,” he said, “but I shall go and see Frank 
to-morrow. I wish I had seen him this afternoon before I 
came to you. However, I have no doubt when I get home 
I shall find a letter from him — not defending himself, of 
course, as he would know that to be unnecessary, but tell- 
ing me the story in his own way.” 

But no letter came that evening, to Captain Bayley ’s 
great irritation. He told Alice Hardy the whole circum- 
stances, and she was as indignant as himself, and warmly 
agreed that the head-master should be punished for his 
unjust suspicions. 

“ And do you say he is really going to be expelled to- 
morrow?” she asked, in a tone of horror. 

“So the fellow said, my dear; but he shall smart for it, 
and the laws of the land shall do Frank justice.” 

At half-past nine the next morning Fred Barkley 
arrived at Captain Bayley ’s. 

“Well,” his uncle exclaimed, as he entered, “I suppose 
you have been sent to tell me they have got to the bottom 
of this rigmarole affair.” 

“No, uncle,” Fred said, “I have, I am sorry to say, been 
sent to tell you that Frank last night left his boarding- 
house and is not be found.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY >S HElR. 


209 


Captain Bayley leaped from his seat in great wrath. 

“The fool! the idiot! to run away like a coward instead 
of facing it out; and not a line or a message has he sent to 
me. Did you know, sir, that your cousin was going to run 
away?” 

Fred hesitated. 

“Yes, uncle, I knew that he was going, and did my best 
to dissuade him, but it was useless.” 

Captain Bayley walked up and down the room with 
quick steps, uttering exclamations testifying his anger and 
annoyance. 

“Has he got any money?” he said suddenly, halting 
before Fred. “Did he get any money from you?” 

Fred hesitated again, and then said: 

“Well, uncle, since you insist upon knowing, I did let 
him have twenty pounds which I got for the sale of my 
books.” 

“I believe, sir,” the old officer said furiously, “that you 
encouraged him in this step, a step which I consider fatal 
to him.” 

Fred hesitated again, and then said : 

“Well, uncle, I am sorry that you should be so angry 
about it, but I own that I did not throw any obstacle in 
the way.” 

“You did not, sir,” Captain Bayley roared, “and why 
did you not? Are you a fool too? Don’t you see that 
this running away instead of facing matters out cannot but 
be considered, by people who do not know Frank, as a 
proof of his guilt, a confession that he did not dare to stay 
to face his accusers?” 

Fred was silent. 

“Answer me, sir,” Captain Bayley said; “don’t stand 
there without a word to explain your conduct. Do you or 
do you not see that this cowardly flight will look like a 
confession of guilt?” 


210 


CAPTAIN BA Y LET'S HEIR . 


“I did see that, tincle,” Fred said, “but I thought that 
better than a public expulsion.” 

“Oh! you did, did you?” his uncle said sarcastically, 
“ when you knew that if he had stopped quietly at home 
we should have proved his innocence in less than no time.” 

Fred made no reply. 

“ Do you think we shouldn’t have proved his innocence?” 
roared his uncle. 

“ I am sorry to say anything which is displeasing to you, 
uncle, but I fear that you would never have proved Frank’s 
innocence.” 

The words seemed to have a sobering effect on Captain 
Bayley. The blood seemed to die out of his face; he put 
one hand on a chair, as if to steady himself, while he looked 
fixedly in his nephew’s face. 

“Do you mean, Fred,” he said, in a low voice, “do you 
mean that you have a doubt of Frank’s innocence?” 

“I should rather not say anything about it,” Fred 
replied. “I hope with all my heart that Frank is not 
guilty, but ” 

“What do you think?” Captain Bayley repeated; “have 
you any grounds whatever for believing him guilty ? v 

“No, sir, and I do not wish you to be in the slightest 
degree influenced by what I said.” He paused, but Captain 
Bayley’s eyes were still fixed upon him, as if commanding 
a complete answer. 

“Well, sir,” he went on hesitatingly, “I must own that, 
sad as it is to say so, I fear Frank did it.” 

“Did he confess it to you?” Captain Bayley asked, in a 
strained, strange voice. 

“No, uncle, not in so many words, but he said things 
which seemed to me to mean that. When I tried to dis- 
suade him from running away, and urged him to remain 
till his innocence could be proved, he said angrily, ‘What’s 
the use of talking like that, when you know as well as I 


CAPTAIN BA T LEY'S HEIR . 211 

do that it can’t he proved.’ Afterward he said, ‘It is a 
had job, and I have been an awful fool. But who could 
have thought that note would he traced back to Litter?’ 
and other remarks of the same kind. He may he inno- 
cent, uncle — you know how deeply I wish we could prove 
him so — hut I fear, I greatly fear, that we shall he doing 
Frank more service by letting the matter drop. You know 
the fellows in the school all believe him innocent, and 
though his going away has staggered some of them, the 
general feeling is still all in his favor; therefore they are 
sure to speak of him as a sort of victim, and when he 
returns, which of course he will do in a few years’ time, 
the matter will have died away and have been altogether 
forgotten.” 

The old officer sat down at the table and hid his face in 
his hands. 

All this time Alice, pale and silent, had sat and listened 
with her eyes fixed upon the speaker, but she now leaped 
up to her feet. 

“Uncle,” she said, “don’t believe him, he is not speak- 
ing the truth, I am sure he is not. He hates Frank, and I 
have known it all along, because Frank is bigger and better 
than he; because Frank was generous and kind-hearted; 
because every one liked Frank and no one liked him. He 
is telling a lie now, and I believe every word he has said 
since he came into the room is false.” 

“Hush! child,” the old officer said; “you must not 
speak so, my dear. If it was only the word of one lad 
against another, it would be different; but it is not so. 
The proof is very strong against Frank. I would give all 
I am worth if I could still believe him innocent, and had 
he come to me and put his hand in mine, and said, ‘Uncle. 
I am innocent,’ I would have believed him against all the 
evidence in the world. It is not I who condemn him, he 
has condemned himself. He sends me no word; he cannot 


CAPTAIN BAT LET’S HEIR. 


m 

look me in the face and declare himself innocent. He 
runs away at night, knowing well that there could be but 
one construction as to this, and that all would judge him 
guilty. No, Alice, it breaks my heart to say so, but I can 
struggle no longer against these facts. The lad whom I 
have loved as a son has turned out a thief.” 

“No, uncle, no,” the girl cried passionately, “I will 
never believe it, not to the end of my life. I cannot prove 
him innocent, but I know he is so, and some day it will be 
proved; but till then I shall still think of him as my dear 
brother, as my true-hearted brother, who has been wrong- 
fully accused, and who is the victim of some wicked plot 
of which, perhaps, Fred Barkley knows more than any one 
else,” and, bursting into a passion of tears, she ran from 
the room. 

Fred looked after her with an expression of pity and 
sorrow. 

“Poor child!” he said, “it is a terrible blow for her, and 
she scarce knows what she is saying.” 

“It is a terrible blow,” Captain Bayley said, in a dreary 
voice, “a most terrible blow to me and to her. No wonder 
she feels it; and I have been planning and hoping that 
some day, a few years hence, those two would get to like 
each other in a different way. I had, by my will, divided 
my fortune equally between you and him, but I have liked 
him best. Of course, I brought him up, and he has been 
always with me; it was natural that I should do so. Still 
I wanted to be fair, and I divided it equally. But I was 
pleased at the thought that her fortune, which is, as you 
know, a very large one, would be his, and enable him to 
make a great figure in the world if he had chosen; and 
now it is all over. 

“ Go away now, my boy, the blow has been too much for 
me. I am getting an old man, and this is the second great 
blow I have had. Do not take to heart the wild words of 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY *S HEIR. 


2l3 


poor little Alice. Yon see she scarcely knows what she is 
saying.” 

Without another word Fred took his departure. When 
once out of sight of the house his steps quickened, and he 
walked briskly along. 

“Splendid!” he said to himself; “a grand stroke indeed, 
and perfectly safe. Frank is not likely to return for twenty 
years, if ever, and I don’t think the old man is good for 
another five. I expect I shall have some trouble with that 
little cat, Alice; but she is only a child, and will come 
round in time, and her fortune will be quite as useful to 
me as it would have been to him. I always knew he was 
little better than a fool, but I could hardly have hoped 
that he would have walked into the trap as he has done. 
I suppose that other blow old Bayley spoke of was that 
affair of his daughter. That - was a lucky business for me 
too.” 

Fred Barkley was not mistaken, it was of his daughter 
Captain Bayley had been thinking when he spoke. He 
had married young when he first went out to India, and 
had lost his wife two years later, leaving him with a 
daughter six months old. He had sent her home to Eng- 
land, and after a twenty years’ absence he had returned 
and found her grown up. 

She had inherited something of her father’s passionate 
disposition, and possessed, in addition, an amount of sullen 
obstinacy which was wholly alien to his nature. But her 
father saw none of these defects in her character. She 
was very beautiful, with an air of pride and hauteur which 
he liked. She had a right to be proud, he thought, for 
she was a very wealthy heiress, for, his two elder brothers 
having died childless while he was in India, the fine 
property of their father had all descended to him. 

Though the girl had many suitors, she would listen to 
none of them, having formed a strong attachment to a 


214 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


man in station altogether beneath her. He had given les- 
sons in drawing at the school which had been her home as 
well as her place of education during her father’s absence, 
for Captain Bayley had quarreled with his sisters, both of 
whom, he considered, had married beneath them. 

The fact that Ella Bayley was an only child, and that 
her father was a wealthy man, was known in the school, 
and had, in some way, come to the ears of the drawing- 
master, who was young, and by no means ill-looking. He 
had played his cards well. Ella was romantic and impetu- 
ous, and, before long, returned the devotion which her 
teacher expressed for her. 

When her father returned home, and Ella left school to 
take her place at the head of his establishment, she had 
hoped that she should be able to win from him a consent 
to her engagement; but she found his prejudices on the 
subject of birth were strong, and she waited two years 
before she broached the subject. 

The wrath of Captain Bayley was prodigious; he heaped 
abusive epithets upon the man of her choice, till Ella’s 
temper rose also. There was a passionate quarrel between 
father and daughter. The next morning Ella was missing; 
a week afterward Captain Bayley received a copy of the 
certificate of her marriage, with a short note from Ella 
saying that when he could make his mind up to forgive her 
and her husband, and to acknowledge that the latter did 
not deserve the abusive language that he had applied to 
him, she should be glad to return and resume her place as 
his affectionate and loving daughter. She gave an address 
at which he could communicate to -her. 

Three years passed before Captain Bayley’s anger had 
sufficiently calmed down for him to write to his daughter 
saying that he forgave her. The letter was returned by 
the people at the house, with a note saying that many 
months had elapsed since any inquiries had been made for 


CAPTAIN BA T LET'S HEIR. 


215 


letters for Mrs. Smedley, and that they had altogether lost 
sight of her. Now that the captain had once made np his 
mind to forgive his daughter, he was burning with impa- 
tience to see her again, and he at once employed a detec- 
tive to find out what had become of her. 

From the person to whose house the letter had been 
directed the detective learned the address where she and 
her husband had resided while in London. 

For a time it seemed they had lived expensively, the sale 
of Ella’s jewels keeping them in luxury for some months. 
Then hard times had come upon them; the man had alto- 
gether lost his connection as a teacher, and could, or would, 
do nothing to support his wife and himself; they had 
moved from the place they had first lived at, and taken 
much smaller lodgings. 

Here the people of the house reported their life had been 
very unhappy; the husband had taken to drink, and there 
had been fierce and frequent quarrels between them, aris- 
ing — the landlady had gleaned, from the loud and angry 
utterance of the husband — from the wife’s refusal to appeal 
to her father for assistance. They had left this place sud- 
denly, and in debt; thence they had moved from lodging 
to lodging at short intervals, their position getting worse, 
until they were last lodged in a wretched garret. From 
this point they were traced with great trouble down to 
Nottingham, where the husband obtained a precarious liv- 
ing by producing designs for embroidery and curtains. 

Had he been steady he might have soon done fairly, but 
a great part of his time was spent in public-houses, and he 
was seldom sober. When returning home one night in a 
state of drunkenness, he was run over by a heavy van and 
killed. As his wife possessed but a few shillings in the 
world, he was buried at the expense of the parish and liis 
widow at once left the town. 

The people where she lodged believed that she had gone 


216 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’8 HEIR. 


to London, taking with her her six-months-old child, and 
had started to tramp the way on foot. The woman said 
that she doubted whether she could ever have got there. 
She was an utterly broken woman, with a constant racking 
though, which was like to tear her to pieces, and before she 
set out her landlady had urged upon her that the idea of 
her starting to carry a heavy child to London was nothing 
short of madness. 

After this all trace of Ella had been lost. Advertise- 
ments offering large rewards appeared in the papers; the 
books of every workhouse between Nottingham and Lon- 
don, and indeed of almost every workhouse in England, 
were carefully searched to see if there was any record of 
the death of a woman with a child about the time of her 
disappearance. A similar search was made at all the Lon- 
don hospitals, and at every institution where she might 
have crawled to die; but no trace had ever been found of 
her. 

That she was dead was not doubted; for it was found 
that at Nottingham she had once gone to the parish doctor 
for some medicine for her child. The physician had taken 
particular notice of her, had asked her some questions, and 
had made a note in his case-book that the mother of the 
child he had prescribed for was in an advanced stage of 
consumption, and had probably but a few weeks, certainly 
not more than a few months, to live. 

It was long before the search was given up as hopeless, 
and many hundreds of pounds were spent by Captain 
Bayley before he abandoned all hope of discovering, if not 
his daughter, at least her child. During the year which 
elapsed before he was forced to acknowledge that it was 
hopeless, Captain Bayley had suffered terribly. His self- 
reproaches were unceasing, and he aged many years in 
appearance. 

It was three years after this, on the death of his sister, 


CAPTAIN BAY LET'S HEIR. 


217 


Mrs. Norris, whose husband had died some years before, 
that he took Frank into his house and adopted him as his 
son, stating, however, to all whom it might concern, that 
he did not regard him as standing nearer to him as his heir 
than his other nephew, Fred Barkley, but that his property 
would be divided between them as they might show them- 
selves worthy of it. It was three years later still, that, at 
the death of her father, an old fellow-officer, his household 
was increased by the addition of Alice, who had been left 
to his guardianship, but who had soon learned, like Frank, 
to address him as uncle. 


218 


C API AIN BAYLEY'S HEIR . 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE MISSING HEIR. 

It was a long time before the house in Eaton Square in 
any way recovered its former appearance. Captain Bay ley 
had lost much of his life and vivacity, and, as the servants 
remarked to each other, nothing seemed to put him out. 
He went for his morning ride in the Park, or his afternoon 
visit to the club, as usual, but his thoughts seemed far 
away; he passed old friends without seeing them, and if 
stopped he greeted them no longer with a cheery ring in 
his voice, or a quick smile of welcome. Every one who 
knew him remarked that Bayley was going down hill terri- 
bly fast, and was becoming a perfect wreck. 

Frank’s name was never now mentioned in the house. 
Its utterance had not been forbidden, but it had been 
dropped as a matter concerning which a hopeless disagree- 
ment existed. Alice had changed almost as much as her 
uncle. Her spirits were gone; her voice was no longer 
heard singing about the house; she no longer ran up and 
down the stairs with quick springing footsteps, and indeed 
seemed all at once to have changed from a young girl into 
a young woman. Sometimes, as she sat, the tears filled 
her eyes and rolled fast down her cheeks; at other times 
she would walk about with her eyebrows knitted, and 
hands clenched, and lips pursed together, a little volcano 
of suppressed anger. 

Although no discussion on the subject had taken place 
between her and her guardian, it was an understood thing 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


219 


that she maintained her opinion, and that she regarded 
Fred Barkley as an enemy. If she happened to be in the 
room when he was announced, she would rise and leave it 
without a word; if he remained to a meal, she would not 
make her appearance in the dining or drawing-rooms. 

“Alice still regards me as the incarnation of evil,” Fred 
said, with a forced laugh, upon one of those occasions. 

“The child is a trump,” Captain Bayley said warmly, 
“a warm lover and a good hater. What a thing it is,” he 
said, with a sigh, “to be at an age when trust and confi- 
dence are unshakable, and when nothing will persuade you 
that what you wish to believe is not right; what would I 
not give for that child’s power of trust?” 

The household in Eaton Square were almost unanimous 
in Frank’s favor. His genial,' hearty manners rendered 
him a universal favorite with the servants; and although 
none knew the causes of Frank’s sudden disappearance, 
the general opinion was that, whatever had happened, he 
could not have been to blame in the matter. 

His warmest adherent was Evan Holl, who had months 
before been introduced to the house as assistant knife and 
boot cleaner by Frank. He did not sle'ep there, going 
home at nine o’clock in the evening when his work was 
done. 

“Do you know, Harry,” he said, one day, “what a rum 
crest, as they calls it — I asked the butler what it meant, and 
he says as how it was the crest of the family — Captain 
Bayley has; he’s got it on his silver, and I noticed it when 
I was in the pantry to-day helping the butler to clean some 
silver dishes which had been lying by unused for some 
time. ‘All families of distinction,’ the butler said — he is 
mighty fond of using hard long words — ‘all families of dis- 
tinction,’ says he, ‘ ’as got their own crest, which belongs 
to them and no one else.’ Now this ’efe crest of the 
guv’nor’s is a hand holding a dagger, and the hand has 


220 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


only got three fingers. I said as how there was two miss- 
ing, and that the chap as did it couldn’t have known much 
of his business to go and leave out two fingers. But the 
butler says, ‘That’s your hignorance,’ says he; ‘the hand 
’as got only three fingers because a hancestor of the cap- 
tain’s in the time of the Crusaders’ — ‘And what’s the 
Crusaders?’ says I. ‘The Crusaders was a war between 
the English and the Americans hundreds of years ago 
says he.” 

Harry burst into a shout of laughter. “Mr. Butler does 
not know anything about it, for the Crusades were wars 
between people who went out to the Holy Land to recover 
the Holy Sepulcher from the Turks who held it.” 

“Ah, well,” Evan said, “it don’t make no odds whether 
they was Turks or Americans. However, the butler says 
as how the Captain Bayley what lived in those days, he 
saw a red Injun a-crawling to stab the king, who was a-lying 
asleep in his tent, and just as his hand was up to stick in 
the knife, Captain Bayley he gives a cut with his sword 
which whips otf two of the fingers, and before the Injun 
could turn round and go at him he gives another cut, and 
takes off his hand at the wrist, and the next cut he takes 
otf his head; so the hand with three fingers holding a 
dagger was given him to carry as a crest. I suppose after 
a time the hand got wore out, or got bad, so as he couldn’t 
have carried it about no longer, and instead of that, as a 
kind of remembrance of the affair, he ’as them put on his 
forks and spoons.” 

Mrs. Holl had been listening with grave interest to the 
narrative. 

“Does I understand you to say, Evan, that no other 
family but that of the master’s put this three-fingered hand 
with a knife on to their things?” 

“That’s so, mother; leastways it’s what the butler says 
about it.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


221 


"Then if that’s the case,” Mrs. Holl said thoughtfully, 
“any one who has got this crest, as you calls it, on his 
things must be a relation of the captain.” 

“I suppose so, mother; he might be a long distance oft, 
you know, because this ’ere affair took place hundreds of 
years ago, and there may be a lot of the same family about 
in different parts.” 

“So there might,” Mrs. Holl said, in a disappointed 
voice. 

“Why, mother,” Harry said, “one would think it made 
some difference to you, you speak so mournfully about it.” 

“It don’t make no difference to me, Harry,” Mrs. Holl 
said, “but it makes a lot of difference to you. You know 
I told you two or three months ago how you come to be 
here. I don’t know as I told .you that round the neck of 
your mother, when she died in that room, was a bit of silk 
ribbon, and on it was a little seal of gold, with a red stone 
in it, which I put by very careful for you, though what 
good such a thing would do to you, or anybody else, I 
didn’t see. Well, on that red stone there was something 
cut; and father he took it to a chap as understands about 
those things, who got some red wax, and hotted it, and 
dropped some of it on a paper, and then squeezed this ’ere 
stone down on it, and looks at the mark through a’ eye- 
glass, and he tells father that it was a hand with three 
fingers holding a dagger.” 

“That was curious, mother,” Harry said, “very curious. 
Can you fetch me the seal and let me have a look at it? 
I don’t remember ever having seen it.” 

The seal was fetched by Mrs. Holl from a pill-box, in 
which it was carefully stored away in the corner of a 
drawer. Harry examined it closely. 

“It looks like a hand holding a dagger,” he said, “but 
it’s # too small for me to see whether it has three fingers or 
four. Evan, will you run round .with it to the little 


222 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR . 


watchmaker’s in the next street, and ask him to look at it 
with one of the glasses he sticks in his eye when he is at 
work, and to tell you whether it has three fingers or. four.” 

Evan returned in a few minutes with the news that the 
watchmaker at once said that the hand had but three 
fingers. 

“Well, from that, Harry,” Mrs. Holl said, “if what this 
man have been and told Evan is right, you must be some 
relation to Captain Bayley.” 

“A cousin, fifty times removed, perhaps,” Harry laughed, 
“but, at any rate, it is pleasant to be able to think that I. 
come of a good family.” 

“You knew that before, Harry,” Mrs. Holl said severely, 
“for I told you over and over again that your mother was 
a lady, though she was in bad circumstances, and I think, 
after charring in respectable houses for the last twenty 
years, I ought to know a lady when I sees one. Well, 
there’s nothing as you think I could do about it?” 

“I should think not,” Harry laughed. “How the old 
gent would stare if Evan was to walk up to him and say, 
‘Captain Bayley, I have got a foster-brother at home who, 
I think, is a relation of yours.’ That would be a nice 
piece of cheek, wouldn’t it?” 

Evan laughed. 

“However, mother, I votes as in future we calls Harry 
Harry Bayley instead of Harry Holl.” 

“You won’t do anything of the sort, Evan,” the cripple 
lad answered hotly. “ H oil’s my name, and you don’t 
suppose I am going to drop the name of the father and 
mother who brought me up, and have tended me all these 
years, for Bayley or any other name; besides, even if it 
should turn out that I am remotely connected with the 
family, there is no reason why my name should be Bayley, 
for, of course, if my mother had been a Bayley, she would 
have changed her name when she married.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


m 


Harry thought but little more of the matter, but Mrs. 
Holl turned it over frequently in her mind, and discussed 
it with John. John said, “He didn’t think much would 
come of it; still, he didn’t see as how there could be any 
harm in asking, seeing that she had set her mind on it.” 

So Mrs. Holl resolved to move in the matter. Evan, on 
being appealed to, said that he did not see how she was to 
get to speak with Captain Bayley; the footman wouldn’t 
be likely to show her in to his master unless she stated her 
business. But after much pressing, andr declaring over 
and over again he wished he had never said a word about 
the hand with three fingers, Evan consented, if he found 
an opportunity, to ask Captain Bayley to see his mother. 
This opportunity, however, did not arrive, Evan’s duties 
never bringing him in contact with his employer. At last 
Mrs. Holl became desperate, and one morning, after break- 
fast, she went to Captain Bayley’s house. The ring at the 
area-bell brought out the cook. 

“What is it?” she said sharply. 

“I am the mother, ma’am, of Evan, as works here.” 

“ Well, come down, if you want to see him.” 

“I don’t want to see him, I want to see Captain Bayley.” 

“I will tell the footman,” the cook said, “but I don’t 
think it likely as you can see the captain.” 

The footman soon made his appearance. Fortunately 
he was very young, and had not yet acquired that haughti- 
ness of manner which characterizes his class. Evan had 
before told him that his mother wanted to see Captain 
Bayley, and had begged him to do his best, should she 
come, to facilitate her doing so. 

“Good morning,” he said. . “Your boy told me you 
would be likely enough coming. So you want to see the 
captain; he has just finished his breakfast and gone into 
the study. Now, what shall I say you wants to see him 
for? I can’t show you in, you know, without asking him 
first.” 


m 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


The young footman was, indeed, curious to know wiiat 
Mrs. Holl’s object could be in wishing to see his master. 
Evan had resisted all his attempts to find out, simply. say- 
ing that it was a private affair of his mother’s. 

“Will you say to him,” Mrs. Holl said , ; “ that the mother 
of the boy as works here under yon is most anxious for to 
see him just for two or three minutes; that it ain’t nothing 
to do with the boy, but she wishes particular to ask Cap- 
tain Bayley a question — if he will be so good as to see her 
— that no one else but liisself could answer.” 

“It’s a rum sort of message,” the young footman said, 
“but, anyhow, I will give it; the captain ain’t as hot- 
tempered as he used to be, and he can but say he won’t 
see you.” 

Captain Bayley looked mystified when the footman 
delivered Mrs. Holl’s message to him ; then he remembered 
that it was Frank who had introduced her son to help in 
the house, and he wondered whether her errand could have 
any connection with him. 

“Well, show her up, James,” he said; “but just tell 
her that my time is precious, and that I don’t want to lis- 
ten to long rambling stories, so whatever she has got to 
say, let her say it straight out.” 

“It’s all right,” James said, as, descending to the 
kitchen, he beckoned Mrs. Holl to follow him; “but the 
captain says you are to cut it short; so if you wants an 
answer you had best put your question, whatever it is, 
short and to the point, or he will snap you up in a minute, 
I can tell you.” 

Mrs. Holl followed into the library. She was at no time 
a very clear-headed thinker, and the difficulty of putting 
her question into a few words pressed heavily upon her. 

“Now, my good woman, what is it?” Captain Bayley 
said, as she entered. “I am going out in a few minutes, 
so come straight to the point, if you please.” 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LET 'A HE IB. 


225 


“I will come as straight as I can, sir,” Mrs. Holl said 
breathlessly, “ but indeed, sir, I am a bad hand at explaining 
things, and if you snaps me up I shall never get on with it.” 

Captain Bayley smiled a little. “Well, I will try and 
not snap you up if you will come to the point. Now, 
what is the point?” 

“The point, sir,” Mrs. Holl said despairingly, “is a 
hand with three fingers a-holding of a dagger.” 

Captain Bayley looked astonished. “You mean my 
crest,” he said; “why, what on earth are you driving at?” 

“Evan saw it on the forks,” Mrs. Holl explained. 

“Yes, no doubt he did,” Captain Bayley said; “but 
what of that? That’s my crest.” 

“Yes, sir, so Evan said, and when he told me it just 
knocked me silly like, and says I to him, says I ” 

“Never mind what you said to him,” Captain Bayley 
broke in, “what is it you want to say to me? What is 
there curious in my crest being on my spoons? Now just 
wait one minute, and tell me as plainly as you can.” 

Mrs. Holl waited a minute. 

“ Well, sir, it struck me all in a heap, because I’ve got in 
the house a thing with just such another hand, a-holding 
of a knife in it.” 

“Oh!” Captain Bayley said, “you have got some article 
with my. crest on it in your house. How did you come by 
it? It must have been stolen.” 

“No, sir, I will take my davey as the young person as 
was my son Harry’s mother never stole nothing in her 
life.” 

“The young person who was your son Harry’s mother,” 
Captain Bayley repeated, in a somewhat puzzled tone. 
“Are you talking of yourself?” 

“Lor’ no, sir, the young person.” 

“But what young person do you mean? How can any 
young person have been your son Harry’s mother except 
yourself?” 




CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“He ain’t really my son, you see, sir; he is the son of a 
young person who we took in, John and I, and who died 
at our house; Harry is her son.” 

A great change passed over Captain Bayley’s face, the 
expression of impatience died out, and was succeeded by 
one almost of awe. He dropped the paper which he had 
hitherto held in his hand, and leaning forward he asked in 
low tones: 

“ Do you mean that a woman who had in her possession 
some article with my crest on it, and who had a child with 
her, died in your house?” 

“Yes, sir, that’s what I mean; the article is a little gold 
seal, with a red stone to it.” 

“How long ago was this?” came slowly from Captain 
Bayley’s lips. 

“About seventeen years ago,” Mrs. Holl said. “The 
mother died a few days afterward; the child is our Harry; 
and I came to ask you — but, good lawks!” 

An ashen grayness had been stealiug across the old 
officer’s face, and Mrs. Holl was terrified at seeing him 
suddenly fall forward across the table. 

She rushed to the door to ask for help. James was in 
the hall, having waited there, expecting momentarily to 
hear his master tell him to show his visitor out. He began 
to utter exclamations of dismay at seeing his master’s sense- 
less figure. 

“I will lift him up,” she said. “Run and fetch the 
butler and the cook, and then go for the doctor as quick 
as you can run; he has got a stroke.” 

The butler was first upon the scene. Mrs. Holl had 
already lifted Captain Bayley into a sitting position. “I 
have taken off his necktie and opened his collar,” she said. 
The butler, who was unaware of Mrs. Holl’s presence 
there, was astonished at the scene. 

“Who are you?” he gasped, “and what have you been 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S Util ft. 


227 


doing to the captain? If you have killed him it will be a 
hanging matter, you know.” 

“Don’t you he a fool,” retorted Mrs. Holl sharply, “but 
run for some water; he has got a stroke, though what it 
came from is more nor I can tell.” 

To he called a fool by this unknown woman of coarse 
appearance roused the butler’s faculties. He was sincerely 
attached to his master, and without reply he at once hur- 
ried away for water. 

In five minutes the doctor, who lived close by, entered. 
Mrs. Holl was still holding up the insensible man; Alice 
stood crying beside her, the servants were looking on. / 

“Open the windows,” he said. 

Then he felt the captain’s .pulse. For some time he 
stood silent; then he said: 

“Lay him down at full length on the couch.” Mrs. 
Holl, without the least effort, lifted the slight figure and 
laid it on the sofa. 

“Now,” the doctor said, “will you all leave the room 
except Miss Hardy and you?” he nodded to Mrs. Holl. 
As the servants retired reluctantly, the butler said: 

“Please, sir, I don’t know whether you know it, but 
that woman was with him alone when he got insensible. 
I don’t know what she did to him, but I should recom- 
mend that we should have a policeman in readiness.” 

“Nonsense,” the surgeon said. “However, it wilf be 
better that she should retire; but let her wait outside, close 
at hand, in case he wishes to speak to her.” 

Sarah Holl followed the servants into the hall. The 
doctor poured a few drops of cordial between Captain 
Bayley’s lips, and placed some strong salts beneath his 
nostrils. 

“.You think he will come round?” Alice asked. 

“He will come round,” the doctor said confidently; “his 
pulse is gaining power rapidly. It is not paralysis, but a 


228 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY' S HEIR. 


sort of fainting fit, brought on, I should imagine, by some 
sudden shock; his heart is weak, and there was a sudden 
failure of its powers. I have warned him over and over 
again not to excite himself. However, I think there is no 
great harm done this time; but he must be careful in 
future; another such attack and it might go hard with 
him. See, he is coming round.” In a few minutes Cap- 
tain Bayley opened his eyes and looked round vaguely. 

“Lie quiet for a little while, my dear sir,” the doctor 
said cheerfully; “you have been ill, a sort of fainting fit, 
but you will be all right in a short time. Drink this glass 
of cordial.” He lifted his patient’s head, and held the 
glass to his lips. As Captain Bayley drank it Alice placed 
a pillow under his head. 

“How was it?” Captain Bayley asked, in a low tone. 

“We don’t know,” the doctor said; “but don’t think 
about it at present. What you have to do now is to get 
quite strong again; it will be time afterward for you to 
think what upset you. You have given Miss Hardy here 
quite a fright.” 

Captain Bayley nodded to Alice. “I never did such a 
thing before,” he said. “I was reading here in the library 
” Then he stopped, a sudden flush came to his face. 

“Don’t agitate yourself, my dear sir,” the doctor said 
soothingly, “agitation now would be a very serious thing. 
Drink a little more of this.” 

Captain Bayley did as he was told, and then asked: 

“ Where is the woman who was speaking to me?” 

“She is outside,” the doctor said. “I told her to wait. 
But you really must not see her for a time.” 

“I am all right now,” Captain Bayley said, rising to his 
elbow, “and it will agitate me less to see her than to wait. 
She brought me very strange news, news which I never 
thought to hear. It is not bad news, my dear,” he said, 
to Alice, “it is the best news I ever heard. You need not 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


m 


go away, doctor,” he said, seeing the physician was prepar- 
ing to leave; “you are an old friend, and know all about 
it; besides, it is no secret. You know how I searched for 
very many years for my daughter and her child, and came 
at last to the conclusion that both must be dead, for she 
was in a dying state when last heard of. Well, I have 
found that the boy is alive. He has been brought up by 
the woman who is the mother of a boy who works here.” 

“Oh! I know,” Alice exclaimed, “Frank told me the 
story. She had told him about a woman who had fallen 
down at her door, years ago, and how she had brought up 
the child. But oh, uncle!” she said pitifully, “I have a 
sad thing to tell you. Frank said that he was such a nice 
boy, so clever and good. Frank used to go and help him 
with his books and he can read Latin and all sorts of 
things; but, uncle, he met with an accident when he was 
little, and he is a cripple.” 

For a minute Captain Bayley was silent. 

“It is part of my punishment, dear,” he said at last. 
“God’s will be done. However, cripple or not, I am 
thankful to find that, from what you say, he is a boy 
whom I can own without shame, for the thought has 
troubled me always, that, should Ella’s son be alive, he 
might have grow T n up a companion of thieves, a wandering 
vagabond. Thank God, indeed, it is not so! I am glad 
you told me, Alice. Now, let me see this good woman 
who has been a mother to him.” 

Mrs. Holl was again called in, and was asked to sit dowm 

“ The question you wished to ask me,” Captain Bayley 
said, “was, I suppose, whether I could give you any clew 
as to who was the woman you took in, and whose child you 
adopted? She was my daughter.” 

“Lor’, sir!” Mrs. Holl exclaimed, “who would have 
thought such a thing?” 

“Who, indeed,” Captain Bayley repeated; “but so it 


230 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


was. For years I sought for her in vain, and had long 
since given up all hope of ever hearing of her. Have you 
got the seal with you?” 

After some search Mrs. Holl produced from the corner 
of her capacious pocket the seal, carefully wrapped up in 
paper. 

“That is it,” Captain Bayley said, with a sigh. “Alice, 
go to my desk, open the inner compartment, and there you 
will see the fellow to it.” 

Alice did as he requested. 

“There, you see, doctor, they are exactly alike. They 
were both made at the same time, soon after I returned 
from India, and now, Mrs. Holl, please tell us the whole 
story as I understand you told it to my nephew.” 

Mrs. Holl repeated the story in nearly the same words 
that she had used to Frank. 

“ God bless you !” Captain Bayley said, when she finished. 
“No words can tell how grateful I am to you, or how 
deeply I am moved at the thought of the kindness which 
you and your husband, strangers as you were to her, 
showed to my poor girl. I hope you will not mind sparing 
him to me now ; your claims are far greater than mine, but 
you have other children, while I, with the exception of my 
ward here, am alone in the world.” 

“Lor’, sir,” Mrs. Holl said, wiping. her eyes with her 
apron, “of course we will spare him. We shall miss him 
sorely, for he has indeed been a comfort and a blessing to 
us; but it is for Ins good, and you won’tonind his coming 
to see us sometimes.” 

“Mind!” Captain Bayley exclaimed, “he would be an 
ungrateful rascal if he did not want to come and see you 
constantly. Well, if you will go home and prepare him a 
little, I will-come round this afternoon and see him. It’s 
no use shaking your head, doctor, I feel myself again now; 
but I will lie down till lunch-time, and will promise not 
to excite myself.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY '8 HEIR. 


231 


CHAPTER XVI. 

JOHN HOLL, DUST CONTRACTOR. 

It was a pathetic meeting between Captain Bayley and 
his newly found grandson. The latter had been astounded 
at the wonderful neAvs that Mrs. Holl had brought home. 
His first thought Avas that of indignation, that his mother 
should have been a penniless wanderer in the streets of Lon- 
don, Avhileher father was rolling in Avealth; but Mrs. Holl’s 
description of the old officer's agitation and pleasure, and 
the long efforts which lie had made to find his daughter, 
convinced him that there must at least have been some 
fault on both sides. 

“My poor boy,” Captain Bayley said, as he entered the 
room, “if you knew how long and earnestly I have sought 
for you, and Iioav many years I have grieved and repented 
my harshness to your mother, you would not find it in your 
heart to think hardly of me. We were both to blame, my 
boy, and we Avere both punished, heavily punished; but 
you shall have all the story some day. I know that it must 
be a bitter thought for you that she died homeless, save 
for the shelter Avhich this good woman afforded her; but I 
hope that you will be able to find it in your heart to for- 
give an old man who has been terribly punished, and that 
you will let me do my best to atone by making your life 
as happy as I can.” 

Harry took the hand which the old officer held out to 
him. 

“For myself, I have nothing to forgive, sir. My life 


232 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


lias been a happy one, thanks to the kindness and love of 
my father and mother here; as to my real mother, of 
course, I do not remember her, nor is it for me to judge 
between her and you. At any rate I can well believe that 
you must have suffered greatly. I have been thinking it 
over, and it seems to me that the mere fact that your 
wishes have at last been carried out, and that you have so 
strangely found your daughter’s son, would seem as if any 
wrongs you did her are considered by God as atoned for. 
I am sorry that 1 am a cripple ; I have been sorry before 
sometimes, but never so sorry as now, for it must be a 
great disappointment to you.” 

"I am so pleased at finding you as you are, my boy,” 
Captain Bayley said, “for I had feared that if you were 
alive it must be as a vagrant, or perhaps even a criminal, 
that your bodily misfortune is as nothing in my eyes. 
This is my ward, Miss Hardy; she is something like a 
granddaughter to me, and is prepared to be a sister to you.” 

“I have heard of her from Evan, sir,” Harry said, with 
a bright look at the girl. “ He has told me how every one 

in the house loves her, and how fond my kind friend ” 

But here he stopped abruptly. The tale of Frank’s sudden 
departure was a subject of frequent discussion at the Holls’, 
as well as in the servants’ hall in Eaton Square; and 
although Harry’s indignation on behalf of his friend had 
been extreme, he paused now before uttering the name, for 
at this first meeting with his relation he felt that no 
unpleasant topic should be introduced. 

There was a moment’s silence as he paused, but Alice 
advanced fearlessly and gave the boy her hand. 

“Thank you, Harry, for what you say, and we shall be 
all the better friends because you love, as do I, my dear 
good cousin, Frank.” 

“Well, Harry,” Captain Bayley said hastily, “when will 
you come home to me? I don’t want to press you to leave 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


233 


your kind friends here too suddenly, but I am longing to 
have you home. I have the carriage at the end of the 
street if you will come now.” 

“No, grandfather, not to-day; I will come to-morrow. 
Father took his dinner away with him, and he will not be 
back till this evening, and I am not going to let him come 
and find me gone.” 

“Quite right, my boy, quite right,” Captain Bayley said. 
“Then to-morrow, at eleven o’clock, I will come round in 
the carriage and fetch you. Mrs. Holl, remember that 
Harry Bayley owes yon a deep debt of gratitude, which he 
will do his best some day to repay as far as it is in his 
power. Good-by, Harry, for the present. I am glad 
your mother gave you my name; it seems to show she 
thought kindly of me at the last. Perhaps she found, 
poor girl, that I had not been altogether wrong in my 
opposition to her unhappy fancy.” 

The following day Harry was installed in Eaton Square. 
Captain Bayley was delighted to find how easily and natur- 
ally he fell into the new position, how well he expressed 
himself, and how wide was his range of knowledge. 

“He is a gentleman, every inch,” he exclaimed delight- 
edly to Alice. “ If you knew how I have thought of him 
you would understand how happy it makes me to see him 
what he is.” 

Captain Bayley lost no time in obtaining the best possi- 
ble surgical advice for his grandson; their opinion was not 
as favorable as he had hoped. Had he been properly 
treated at the time of his accident he might, they said, 
have made a complete recovery; but now it was too late. 
However, they thought that by means of surgical appli- 
ances, and a course of medicinal baths, he might recover 
the use of his legs to some extent, and be able to walk with 
crutches. This was something, and the captain deter- 
mined at once to carry their advice into effect. 


234 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LET'S EEIR. 


Between Alice Hardy and the lad a strong friendship 
speedily sprang up. The girl’s bright talk, which was so 
different from anything he had hitherto experienced, was 
very delightful to the lad; hut the strong bond between 
them was their mutual feeling about Frank. From her 
Harry learned the charge under which Frank labored, and 
his indignant repudiation of the possibility of such a thing 
delighted Alice’s heart; hitherto she had been alone in her 
belief, and it was delightful to her to talk with one who 
was of her own way of thinking. She infected Harry with 
her own dislike and suspicions of Fred Barkley, and amused 
the lad greatly by telling him how, when she had heard of 
the discovery of his existence, she had, when Mrs. Holl 
left, gone straight up to her room and indulged in a wild 
dance of delight at the destruction of Fred’s hope of being 
Captain Bayley’s sole heir. 

“ It was glorious,” she said. “ I knew Fred hated Frank, 
though Frank, silly old boy, was always taking his part 
with me and scolding me because I didn’t like his cousin; 
and I am quite, quite sure that he has had something to 
do with getting Frank into this dreadful scrape, and it was 
glorious to think that just when he thought that he had 
got the field clear, and Uncle Harry all to himself, you 
should suddenly appear and put his nose out of joint. 
That’s a very unladylike expression, Harry, and I know I 
oughtn’t to use it, but there’s nothing else does so well. 
It’s Fred’s holidays now, and he is away; I expect uncle 
will write and tell him all about it.' I wish he wouldn’t, 
for I would give anything to see his face when he walks in 
and sees you sitting here and hears who you are.” 

“Oh! but 1 hope,” Harry said, “that grandfather won’t 
make any difference to any one because of me. What 
would be the use of much money to me? Of course I 
should like to have a little house, with a man to wheel me 
about; but what could I want beyond that?” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


235 


“ Oh ! nonsense, Harry. In the first place yon are going 
to get better; and even if you were not, you could enjoy 
life in lots of ways. Of course you would have nice car- 
riages and horses; you might keep a yacht— Frank was 
always saying that he would like to have a yacht, and I 
don’t see why you shouldn’t go into parliament. I am 
sure you are clever enough, and I have heard uncle say 
that three-fourths of the members are fools. He says 
something naughty before fools, but you know he swears 
dreadfully; he does not mean it, not in the least; I sup- 
pose he learned it in India. I tell him it is very wrong 
sometimes, but he says he is too old to get rid of bad habits. 
I wish he wouldn’t do it; and the worst of it is, Harry,” 
she said plaintively, “that instead of being very much 
shocked, as I ought to be, very often I can hardly help 
laughing, he does put in that dreadful word so funnily.” 

“No, I should not care about being in parliament,” the 
boy said. “If I were ever so ridi I think I might like a 
yacht; still, a yacht, if it were only a small one, would 
cost a great deal of money, and I do hope that grandfather 
won’t disappoint any one for my sake.” 

Captain Bayley had, however, a few days after the dis- 
covery of his grandson, and after having satisfied himself 
how lovable the lad was, and how worthy in all respects to 
be his heir, written to Fred Barkley, telling him that his 
grandson had been found, arid that he was all that he could 
wish to find him. 

“Naturally, Fred,” he wrote, “this will make a consid- 
erable difference in your prospects. * At the same time, as 
you have been led to believe that you would come into a 
considerable property at my death, and as you have done 
nothing to forfeit my confidence and affection, having 
proved yourself in all ways a steady and industrious and 
honorable young fellow, I do not consider it right that you 
should be altogether disinherited by a discovery which has 


236 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S HEIR. 


occasioned me such vast pleasure. I have therefore 
instructed my solicitor to prepare a new will. By this he 
will settle my property in Warwickshire, and my town 
house, upon my grandson; but my other house property, 
and a portion of my money in stocks and shares, which has 
been accumulating for many years, will be left to you, the 
value of the legacy being, I calculate, about one-half of 
that of the property left to my grandson. Thus you will 
be in nearly the same position you would have occupied' 
had not your cousin Frank forfeited, by his disgraceful 
conduct, his place in my affections.” 

Whatever may have been the feelings of Fred Barkley 
when he received this communication, he wrote a graceful 
letter of congratulation to his uncle, expressing his pleasure 
at the discovery of his long-lost grandson, and with many 
thanks for his kind intention on his own behalf. His 
anger and disappointment were so great that he did not 
return to town until the day before he was going up to 
Cambridge-^having left Westminster at the end of the 
preceding term— for he did not feel himself equal, before 
that time, to continue to play his part, and to express per- 
sonally the sentiments which he had written. What ren- 
dered his disappointment even more bitter was the thought 
that, indirectly, it was Frank who had dealt him the blow, 
for Captain Bayley had mentioned in his letter that it was 
through the boy whom his cousin had recommended as an 
assistant to the footman that the discovery had been made. 

The visit that he paid at Eaton Square was a short one. 
To his relief Alice was not present, for he was certain that 
she would have watched him with malicious pleasure. But 
there had been a passage of arms between her and her 
guardian of a more serious nature than any which had 
occurred since she had been under his care, owing to her 
having expressed herself with her usual frankness respect- 
ing Fred’s visit. 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


237 


Her guardian had resented this warmly, and had rated 
her so severely as to what he called her wicked prejudice 
against Fred, that she had retired to her room in tears. 
This defeat of his favorite had not predisposed Harry to 
any more favorable opinion of his unknown cousin; but 
Fred, relieved from the presence of Alice, acted his part 
so well, and infused so genuine a ring into the tone of his 
congratulations, that he did much to dissipate the prejudice 
with which Harry was prepared to regard him. Alice was 
quick to observe the impression which Fred had made, and 
quarreled hotly with Harry concerning it. 

“I am disappointed in you altogether, Harry. I have 
looked upon you as being a real friend of Frank, and now 
you desert him directly his enemy says a few soft words to 
you. I despise such friendship, and I don’t want to have 
anything more to say to you.” 

In vain Harry protested. The girl flung herself out of 
the room in deep anger, and thenceforth, for a long time, 
Harry was made to feel that although she wished to be 
civil to him as her guardian’s grandson, yet that the bond 
of union between them was entirely broken. Harry him- 
self had lost no time in speaking to his grandfather on 
behalf of Frank. 

“My dear Harry,” the old man said, “my faith in his 
innocence was as strong as yours, and, crushing as the 
proofs seemed to be, I would never have doubted him had 
he defended himself. But he did not; he never sent me a 
line to ask me to suspend my judgment or to declare his 
innocence; he ran away like a thief at night, and, although 
Fred generously tried to soften the fact to me, there is no 
doubt he admitted his guilt to him. Still, after the lesson 
I had in your mother’s case, I would forgive him did I 
know where he was. 

“I do not say, Harry, that I would restore him to his 
place in my affection and confidence, that of course would 




238 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


be impossible; but I would willingly send him a check for 
a handsome amount, say for five thousand pounds, to 
establish him in business, or set him up in a farm in one 
of the colonies.” 

“That is no use, grandfather,” Harry said, “if he is 
innocent — as I most firmly believe him to be, in spite of 
everything against him, and shall believe him to be to my 
dying day, unless he himself tells me that he was guilty — 
he will not accept either your forgiveness or your money. 
What I wish is that he could be found. I wish that I 
could see him, or that you could see him, face to face, and 
that we could hear from his own lips what he has to say. 
He might, at least, account for his foolish running away 
instead of facing it out. 

“We do not know how desperate he might have been at 
being unable to clear himself from the charge brought 
against him. Remember, he could not have known how 
hotly you were working on his behalf, and may have 
believed himself altogether deserted. He may account for 
not having written to you. And we must remember, 
grandfather — mind I do not share all Alice’s prejudice, 
and have no inclination in any way to doubt the honesty 
of my cousin Fred— but at the same time, in bare justice 
to Frank, we must not forget that Fred was really a rival 
of his in your affections, and that he would possibly benefit 
greatly by Frank’s disgrace, and we must also remember 
that the only evidence against Frank, with the exception 
of the circumstantial proof, comes from him. 

“It was he who furnished Frank with funds to enable 
him to run away, and we cannot tell whether or not he did 
not even urge him to fly. You must remember, grand- 
father, that Alice asserts Fred always hated Frank. I 
know she is prejudiced and that you never noticed the 
feeling nor did Frank; but children’s perceptions are very 
quick. And even allowing that she liked Frank much the 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR . 


239 


best, Fred was always, as she admits, very kind and atten- 
tive to her — more so, in some ways, than Frank, and there 
was no reason, therefore, for her taking up such a prejudice 
had she not been convinced that it was true. 

“Now, grandfather, I will tell you what has occurred to 
me. I know it will appear a hideously unjust suspicion to 
you, but I will tell you once for all, and we will not recur 
to the subject again; God knows I may be wronging him 
cruelly, but the wrong would be no greater than that 
which has been done to Frank if he is really innocent. 

“Ever since you told me the whole story, I have lain 
awake at night thinking it over. It may be that what 
Alice has said may have turned my thoughts that way, but 
I can see only two explanations of the affair. 

“ Frank is really guilty, or he is altogether innocent. If 
he is innocent, who was guilty? Some one took the note, 
some one sent it to Frank, and this some one must be a 
person who knew that Frank was in need of it; whoever 
did so can only have done it with one of two motives, either 
to get Frank out of trouble, or to bring disgrace upon him. 
Only four boys knew of the affair, and they all declare that 
they told no one else. If they spoke truly it was one of 
these four sent him the note — always supposing that he 
did not take it himself. Of the other three I know 
nothing; but I will take the case of Fred and view it as if 
he was a stranger to both of us. 

“ He was a rival of Frank’s. Alice declares he hated 
him. At any rate he would benefit greatly by Frank’s dis- 
grace. What did he do when Frank asked him to help 
him? He refused to do so, on the ground that he had no 
money; but two days later he was able to raise double the 
sum Frank then wanted in order to assist him to fly. 
Dreadful as the supposition is, it seems to me that the only 
positive alternative to supposing Frank to be guilty is to 
believe that his cousin took this note and sent it to him in 


240 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


order to bring him into disgrace, and that he afterward 
urged and assisted him to fly in order to stamp his guilt 
more firmly upon him.” 

While Harry had been speaking Captain Bayley had 
paced up and down the room. 

“Impossible, Harry,” he exclaimed, “impossible. For, 
bad as was the case of Frank taking the note on the pres- 
sure of the moment to get himself out of the silly scrape 
into which he had got, this charge which you bring against 
Fred would be a hundred times, ay, a thousand times worse. 
It would be a piece of hideous treachery, a piece of ’villainy 
of which I can scarce believe a human being capable.” 

“I do not bring the charge, grandfather,” Harry said 
quietly, “ I only state the alternative. That one of your 
nephews took this note seems to me to be clear; the crime 
would be infinitely greater, infinitely more unpardonable 
in the one case than the other, but the incentive, too, was 
enormously greater. In the one case the only object for 
the theft would be to avoid the consequence of a foolish, 
but, after all, not a serious freak; in the other to obtain 
a large fortune, and to ruin the chances of a dangerous 
rival. 

“ Remember, at that time Fred did not know how you 
had determined to dispose of your property. Frank was 
living with you, and was apparently your favorite, there- 
fore he may have deemed that it was all or nothing. 
There, grandfather, I have done. I need not say that I 
know little of the real disposition' of your two nephews. 
Frank behaved to me with the greatest kindness when I 
was a poor cripple without the slightest claim upon him. 
Fred has behaved kindly and courteously, although I 
have come between him and you. I can only say that I 
believe that one of these two must be guilty; which it is, 
God alone knows.” 

“I wish you had said nothing about it,” Captain Bayley 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


Ml 


groaned, “it is dreadful; I don’t know what to do or wliat 
to think.” 

“There is ndthing to be done,” Harry said, “except, 
grandfather, to find Frank. Let us find him and see him 
face to face; let us hear his story from beginning to end, 
and I think then we shall arrive at a just conclusion. I 
have no doubt he has gone abroad, and I should advise that 
you should advertise in all the Colonial and American 
papers begging him to return to have an interview with 
you, and offering a handsome reward to any one who will 
give you information of his whereabouts. If we find where 
he is, and he will not come to us, we will go to him.” 

“ That’s what I will do, Harry. • I will not lose a mo- 
ment’s time, but will set about it at once; if I spend ten 
thousand pounds in advertising 1 will find him. As to 
Fred, I cannot meet him again until I get to the bottom of 
the affair, so we will stay away from England till I get 
some news of Frank.” 

Before starting abroad, Captain Bayley carried out his 
plan for rewarding John and Sarah Holl for the kindness 
they had shown to Harry. After consultation with his 
grandson, he had concluded that the best plan of doing so 
would be to help them in their own mode of life. He 
accordingly called upon the dust-contractor for whom John 
Holl worked, a man who owned twenty carts. An agree- 
ment was soon come to with him, by which Captain Bayley 
agreed to purchase his business at his own price, with the 
whole of the plant, carts, and horses. A fortnight after 
this John’s master said to him one day: 

“John, I have sold my business, you are going to have 
a new master.” 

“I am sorry for that,” John said, “for we have got on 
very well together for the last fifteen years. ' Besides,” he 
added thoughtfully, “it may be a bad job for me; I am 
not as young as I used to be, and he may bring new hands 
with him.” 


m 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


“I will speak to him about yon, John,” his master said; 
“he is a good sort, and I dare say I can manage it. The 
thing is going to be done well. Three or four new carts 
are going to be put on instead of some of the old ones, and 
there are ten first-rate horses coming in place of some of 
those that are getting past work. The stables are all being 
done up, and the thing is going to be done tip-top. Curi- 
ously enough his name is the same as yours, John Holl.” 

“Is it now?” John said. “Well, that will be a rum go, 
to see my own name on the carts, ‘John Holl, Dust Con- 
tractor.’ It don’t sound bad neither. So you will speak 
to him, gaffer?” 

“Ay, I will speak to him,” his employer answered. 

Three days later John received a message from his mas- 
ter to the effect that the new gaffer would take possession 
next day, and that he was to call at the office at eleven 
o’clock. He added that his new employer said that he 
wished Mrs. Holl to go round with her husband. 

John and Sarah were greatly mystified with the latter 
part of this message, until the solution occurred to them 
that probably their late employer had mentioned that Mrs. 
Holl went out charring and cleaning, and that he might 
intend to engage her to keep the office tidy. 

Accordingly, at eleven o’clock on the following day, 
John and Sarah presented themselves at the office at 
Chelsea. As they entered the yard they were greatly 
amused at seeing all the carts ranged along, in the glory of 
new paint, with “John Holl, Dust Contractor,” in large 
letters on their sides. A boy was in the office, who told 
them that they were to go to the house. The yard was 
situated near the river, and the house which adjoined it 
was a large old-fashioned building, standing in a pretty, 
walled garden. They went to the back door, and knocked. 
It was opened by a bright-looking servant-girl. 

“Is Mr. Holl in?” Sarah asked. 


CAPTAIN BAILEY'S HEIN 


243 

“Yon are to be shown in,” the girl said, and ushered 
them into a large, old-fashioned parlor, comfortably fur- 
nished. 

John and Sarah gave a cry of surprise, for, sitting by 
the fire, in his wheeled box, just as in the olden time, was 
Harry. 

Scarce a day had passed since he had left them without 
his coming in for a half-hour for a chat with them, but his 
appearance here struck them with astonishment. 

“What on arth be you a-doing here, Harry?” Mrs. Holl 
asked. “Do you know our new gaffer?” 

“Yes, mother, I know him. Captain Bayley has had 
some business with him, and asked me to come down here 
to see him. You are to sit down until he comes.” 

“But that will never do, Harry. Why, what would he 
think of us if he comes in and finds us sitting down in his 
parlor just as if the place belonged to us?” 

“It’s all right, mother, I will make it right with him; 
he’s a good fellow, is the new gaffer — a first-rate fellow.” 

“Is he, now?” John asked, interested, as he and Sarah, 
seeing nothing else to do, sat down. “ And his name is 
John Holl, just the same as mine?” 

“Just the same, John, and he’s not unlike you either. 
Now, when I tell you what a kind action he did once, you 
will see the sort of fellow he is. Once, a good many years 
ago, when he wasn’t as well off as he is now, when he was 
just a hard-working man, earning his weekly pay, a poor 
woman with a child fell down dying at his door. Well, 
you know, other people would have sent for a policeman 
and had her taken off to the workhouse, but he and his 
wife took her into their house and tended her till she died.” 

“That was a right-down good thing,” John said, quite 
oblivious of the fact that he too had done such an action. 

Sarah did not speak, but gave a little gasping cry, and 
threw her apron, which she wore indoors and out, over her 


244 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEtTt. 


head, a sure sign with her that she was going to indulge. in 
what she called “a good cry.” John looked at her in 
astonishment. 

“And more that that, John,” Harry went on, “they 
took in the child, and brought it up as one of their own; 
and though afterward they had a large family, they never 
made him feel that he was a burden to them, though he 
grew up a cripple, and was able to do nothing to repay 
them for all their goodness. Well, at last the boy’s friends 
were found. They had lots of money, and the time came 
at last when they bought a business for John Holl; and 
when he came, there the cripple boy was, sitting at the 
fire, to welcome them and say, ‘Welcome, father! and 
welcome, mother!’ ” and Harry held out his hands to them 
both. 

Even now John Holl did not understand. He was 
naturally dull of comprehension, and the loud sobbing of 
his wife so bewildered and confounded him that it divided 
his attention with Harry’s narrative. 

“Yes, Harry,” he said, “it’s all very nice. But what’s 
come to you, Sarah? What are you making all this fuss 
about? We shall be having the new master coming in and 
finding you sobbing and rocking yourself like a madwoman. 
Cheer up, old woman. What is it?” 

“Don’t you see, John,” Sarah sobbed out, “don’t you 
see Harry has been telling you your own story? Don’t 
you see that it is you he has been talking about, and that 
you are ‘John Holl, Dust Contractor?’” 

“Me?” John said, in utter bewilderment. 

“Yes, father,” Harry said, taking his hand, “you are 
the John Holl. This house, and the business, and the 
carts and horses, are yours; Captain Bayley has bought 
them all for you. He would not come here himself, as I 
wished him, but he asked me to tell you and mother how 
glad he was to be able to repay, in a small way, he said, 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


245 


your great kindness to me, and how he hoped that you 
would prosper here, and he as happy as you deserve to he. 
You will he better off than your last gaffer, for he had to 
pay rent for this house and yard, but, as grandfather has 
bought the freehold of them all for you, you will have no. 
rent to pay; and therefore 1 hope, even in bad times, you 
will be able to get along comfortably. There, father, 
there, mother, dry your eyes, and look sharp, for I can 
hear voices in the garden. Evan went to your house after 
you had gone to bring all the children round here in a cab. 

“You will find everything in the house, mother, and 
you must get a grand tea as soon as possible. I have got a 
servant for you — for, you know, you must have a servant 
now.” 

The next minute the children came bounding iu, wild 
with delight, and a happier party never assembled than 
those who sat round the table of “John Holl, Dust Con- 
tractor,” on the evening of his first taking possession of 
his new property. 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


m 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE LONELY DIGGERS. 

The camp increased rapidly, for although no extraor- 
dinarily rich finds were made, the valley bottom widened 
out at this point, and the gold was generally disseminated 
in quantities sufficient to enable the miners to live, and 
every one hoped that, as they got deeper, their claims 
would increase in value. Every day added to the number 
of tents and huts. Three bars competed with each other 
for the favor of the diggers, and two large stores drove a 
profitable trade in food and mining tools and materials; 
brawls at the gambling-tables were of nightly occurrence, 
and no small proportion of the gold obtained by the more 
fortunate diggers found its way into the pockets of the 
gamblers. 

“I tell you what, Abe,” Frank said, a short time after 
their arrival, when they heard that a young man had been 
shot down by one of the most notorious ruffians in the 
camp, “ I think it would be a good plan if we were all to 
agree that we will not enter one of these saloons. I know 
it’s a temptation, after work is over, to saunter in there; 
but I think such a party as we ar6 are enough for each 
other. We have done well enough for months out on the 
plains, and I don’t see why we should not do so now. We 
are friends, and should be awfully sorry to see any one of 
our number losing his share of our joint earnings at the 
gambling-tables, or brought home with a bullet-hole in his 
head. 


CAPTAIN BA T LEY'S HEIR. 


247 


“ If we want a little change, we can always ask one or 
two of the quiet men to join us round our fire. If we 
want drink, it is cheaper and better to buy it by the bottle, 
and have a glass in company here. There is no doubt that 
any one who takes to drink here may as well hang himself 
at once, for he will never do any good. I don’t know that 
any of us are inclined that way, but I think it would be a 
good plan to enter into a sort of agreement with each other 
that, as long as we are in partnership, none of us shall 
enter a saloon or stake a dollar in play.” 

“I agrees with you, Frank. Time has been when I have 
gone in for as heavy sprees as any one. I don’t think as 
I am likely to do it again, but I am sure that an agreement 
like that would be a good thing for me as well as the others. 
What do yer say, boys?” 

“The only thing is,” Peter suggested, “that we might, 
one or other, very well get into a bad quarrel by refusing 
to drink when we are asked. You see it’s pretty nigh a 
deadly offense to refuse to drink with a man; and if it got 
noticed that none of us ever went into a bar, there are men 
here who would make a point of asking us to drink just 
for the sake of making a quarrel if we refused.” 

“I allow there’s something in that,” Abe said; “there’s 
no surer way of getting into a mess among a set of men 
like this than in refusing to drink.” 

“Well, if that’s the case,” Frank said, “we must modify 
the arrangement, and agree that none of us will go into a 
bar unless actually asked to go and take a drink — that 
wouldn’t be very often, the invitation is generally given 
inside. We come back from work about the same time 
that every one else knocks off, and they are not thinking 
of going to the bars till they have had a meal, and when 
we are once quietly seated round the fire here no one is 
very likely to ask any of us to get up and go off to one of 
the saloons,” 


248 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


The suggestion was adopted, and all bound themselves 
not to enter a saloon to drink or gamble unless invited to 
take a drink under circumstances in which a refusal would 
be taken in bad part. 

“I am mighty glad you proposed that,” Abe said, after- 
ward. “Rube is all right, but Peter and Dick are both of 
’em fond of going on a spree now and then, and this may 
keep them from it. I told ’em when we started that I was 
ready to go partners as long as they kept from drink, but 
I wasn’t going to tie myself up with any one as was going 
in for that. When we dissolves partnership each one will 
have a right to do with his share what he likes; he can 
gamble it away, or drink it away, or fool it away as he 
chooses, but no man as drinks over night will do his fair 
share of work next day. Besides, lock may at any time go 
agin us, and we may have to fall back on what we have 
laid by when times were good ; and if any one had been and 
spent his share he couldn’t be looking to the others to sup- 
port him. Besides, as I pinted out, we might want all the 
money we has got atween us to buy up a claim in a good 
place. They agreed to it, and so far they have kept to it; 
not, of course, as they had much chance to do otherwise 
on the way. Still, I think this fresh agreement’s likely to 
do good. We are working here on shares, and each man is 
bound to do his best for the others.” 

After sitting by the fire for some time of an evening, 
Prank generally got up and strolled round the camp, 
accompanied by Turk. There were many phases of life 
presented to him. While the successful diggers were 
drinking and gambling in the saloons, there were many 
who could barely keep life together. It was true this was 
in most cases their own fault, for men willing to work 
could earn their five dollars a day by laboring in the claims 
of wealthier or more successful diggers; but many would 
hold on to their own claims, hoping against hope, and 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


249 


believing always that the ground would get richer as they 
went down. 

Frank chatted freely with all, and he and. his great 
dog were soon known to every one in camp. He was 
able to do many little acts of kindness to those whose luck 
was bad; for on arriving at the end of the journey each of 
the party had, at Abe’s suggestion, put twenty dollars into 
the common fund, and beyond this amount the sum he had 
brought with him from Omaha was still untouched ; and 
many a man who would otherwise have gone to bed supper- 
less after a hard day’s work, was indebted to him for the 
means of procuring a few pounds of Spur and a pound or 
two of pork. 

His attention had been particularly attracted to two 
men who lived in a small tent a hundred yards away from 
any of the others, and who worked a claim by themselves. 
They did not seem to have any communication with the rest 
of the diggers, and kept themselves entirely apart. While at 
work Frank had heard several jeering remarks as to the 
absurdity of working a claim in a part of the ground which 
had over and over again been tried and abandoned, and 
Frank felt sure that the men were doing badly. 

One day he observed that only one of the men was at 
work, the younger of the two; and as he continued to 
wield his shovel after the others had thrown down their 
tools for the evening, Frank w r alked over to him. 

“Is your partner ill?” he asked. “I see he is not work- 
ing with you to-day.” 

The man nodded, but continued his work without 
speaking. He was evidently indisposed for conversation. 

“Why I asked,” Frank said, “was not for mere curi- 
osity, but because we have brought up with us from Sacra- 
mento a few bottles of fever medicine, and other things 
likely to be wanted here, and if any of them would be of 
use you will be heartily welcome to them. We ought all 


250 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S IIETR. 


to help each other, for no one knows whether he himself 
may not want a helping hand next.” 

“Thank you,” the man said, somewhat gruffly; “we 
shall get on all right, and my mate isn’t fond of strangers.” 

“I need not trouble him myself,” Frank said; “I can 
bring you round any medicines here, and you can give 
them to him without saying how you got them.” 

“Thank you; medicine wouldn’t do him any good,” the 
man said, and resumed his work as if anxious to avoid 
further conversation. 

Frank, however, was not to he discouraged. The man 
looked thin and haggard, and Frank suspected that it 
might be food rather than medicine of which the man’s 
mate was in need. He therefore stood his ground. 

“I am afraid you haven’t hit on a very good spot,” he 
said. “I don’t know much about it myself, for I have 
only been here about a month; but I hear every one say 
that there have been several trials made here, and that 
none of them have found anything to speak of.” 

“We must work where we can,” the man said. “The 
places were pretty well all taken up when we came, and it 
didn’t suit us to go further.” 

“Well,” said Frank, “I don’t want to be inquisitive, 
mate, or to interfere in other people’s affairs, but I noticed 
your mate looked an elderly man, and that you seemed 
pretty much alone. I am only just out here myself, and 
I and the party I am working with are doing fairly; so I 
thought it would be only neighborly to come over and see 
if I could be of use in any way.” 

“No, thank you,” the man repeated; “there’s nothing 
we want.” 

Frank saw that at present he could do nothing; but he 
had little doubt that the two men were really suffering 
severely. Still he understood and respected their pride 
and with a friendly “ Good evening ” strolled off to his own 
hut. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR, 


251 


The next evening he again went round to the solitary 
workman. 

“How is your mate?” he asked. 

The man shook his head. “He’s pretty bad.” 

The tone was softer and less repellent than that which 
he had used the evening before. He was a young man of 
not more than three or fonr-and -twenty, and Frank saw 
that his lip quivered as he turned away from him and dug 
his shovel into the ground. 

“If your mate is worse,” Frank said, “you have no right 
to refuse my offer. I cannot help feeling that you are 
doing badly; in that case, why should yon not let me lend 
you a hand? There’s no disgrace in being unlucky. Here 
men are unlucky one week, and make a rich strike on the 
week following, and then they can lend a hand to others, 
just as a hand may have been lent to them when they 
wanted it. I think by your accent that you are an Eng- 
lishman, and an educated one, just as I am myself. Why 
on earth don’t you let me be a friend to you?” 

The man did not reply; but Frank could guess by the 
random way in which he was doing his work, that a strug- 
gle was going on. 

“He would not hear of it,” he said at last. 

“Then don’t let him hear of it,” Frank said promptly. 
“If he has any mistaken ideas about taking help from a 
stranger, the sort of ideas one would naturally have at 
home, and is ill and wants something, we must help him 
in spite of himself. If, as I suspect, he needs other mat- 
ters as well as medicine, you should provide him, even if it 
be necessary to carry out a little harmless deception.” 

“I would not tell him a lie,” the man said, almost 
fiercely. 

“No, there’s no occasion for that,” Frank went on. 
“You can tell him that you have come across that nugget 
in the claim,” and Frank tossed into the hole a nugget for 


252 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


which he had half an hour before given a digger ten dollars 
from his own store. 

For a moment the man stood irresolute, and then burst 
into a passion of tears. Frank saw that he had gained the 
day, and saying, “ I will come round for a chat to-morrow 
afternoon. That’s my camp up there — that tent just on 
the ridge. I have really medicines, if you think they will 
be of any use,” strolled away to his supper. He glanced 
round when he had gone a little distance, and saw the dig- 
ger running at full speed toward the solitary tent. 

The next evening the young man dropped his shovel as 
he approached him, and came to meet him. 

“I did not thank you last night,” he began. 

“Nonsense,” Frank said, interrupting; “there is no 
occasion whatever for thanks. Why, it’s the custom here, 
whenever any one is taken ill, or is unfortunate, and has 
to move on, a few friends, or, as it often happens, a few 
strangers, will each chip in a pinch of gold dust to help 
him on. It’s the rule here that we stand by each other, 
and being both Englishmen, it is natural we should lend 
each other a hand. 'How is your mate?” 

“He is a good deal better, thanks to the food I was able 
to get for him; for, as you guessed, we have been nearly 
starving the last fortnight.” 

“But why did you keep on working at such a place as 
this?” Frank asked. “Why didn’t you go on wages? 
There are plenty of men here who would be glad to take 
on an extra hand if they could get him.” 

The young man hesitated 

“I know it must seem utter folly,” he said at last, “but 
the fact is my partner has a fixed idea that claim will turn 
out well; he dreamed it.” 

“Pooh!” Frank said; “diggers are constantly dreaming 
about lucky places— and no wonder, when they are always 
thinking about them. I consider it madness to keep on 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


253 


toiling here, even if yonr mate is ill. It is folly to give in 
to him in this way, and for you both to be half-starved 
when you can earn, at any rate, enough to keep you both 
by working for others.” 

“That is just what I knew you would say,” the young 
man replied, “and I feel it myself, thoroughly.” 

“Then why on earth do you keep on doing it?” 

“I have a reason, a very particular reason, though I am 
not at liberty to explain it.” 

“Well, then, there’s no more to be said,” Frank replied, 
vexed at what he regarded as obstinate folly. He talked 
for a few minutes, and then strolled away, and for the next 
two days did not go near the digger who seemed so bent on 
slaving uselessly. 

The third day Frank noticed that the man was not at 
work on his claim. As soon as he knocked off in the even- 
ing he walked across to the spot. The tools still lay in 
the hole, showing that the claim had not been abandoned, 
although work had temporarily ceased. 

Next day the claim was still unworked; the tent stood 
in its place, showing that the diggers had not moved away. 
Although, from their previous conversation, Frank thought 
that he might not improbably meet with a repulse, after 
work was done he strolled over to the tent. 

“Are you in, mate?” he asked, outside. “Seeing you 
were not at work for the last two days, I thought I would 
walk over and ask you if anything was the matter.” 

The young man came out from the tent; he looked 
utterly worn-out. 

“ My father has been too ill for me to leave him,” he said, 
in a low tone. “I spoke of him as my mate before, but he 
is my father.” 

“Can I do anything?” Frank asked. 

“No, thank you; I don’t think any one can do any- 
thing. If there were a doctor in camp, of course I should 


554 


OAT TAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


call him in; but I don’t think it would be of any use. 
He’s broken down, altogether broken down. We don’t 
want for anything, thanks to your kindness.” 

“You look worn-out yourself,” Frank said. 

“I suppose I do. I have not lain down for the past five 
days.” 

“Then,” Frank said, “I insist on taking your place 
to-night. Is he sensible?” 

The young man shook his head. 

“ Sometimes, for a little while, I think he knows where 
he is, but most' of the time he lies perfectly still, or just 
talks to himself.” 

“Very well, then,” Frank said, “he will not know the 
difference. Besides, you can lie down in the tent, and I 
can wake you at once if there is any occasion.” 

The man hesitated; but he was too worn-out to resist, 
and he made no opposition as Frank entered the tent. An 
elderly man lay stretched upon some blankets, one of 
which was thrown loosely over him. Frank stooped and 
put his fingers on his wrist. He could scarcely feel the 
pulse. 

“What have you been giving him?” 

“I got a piece of fresh meat and boiled it down into 
broth.” 

“ Have you given him any stimulants? I think he wants 
keeping up.” 

“He never touches them,” the young man said. 

“All the better,” Frank replied; “ they will have all the 
more effect upon him as medicine. If you will wait here 
a few minutes, I will go up to my tent and fetch down a 
blanket and a few things. I will be with you in ten 
minutes.” 

Frank briefly announced to his comrades that he was 
going to sit up for the night with a sick man. He put a 
bottle cen taming a glass or two of brandy in his pocket, 


Captain ba ylet >s tiffin . 255 


and went into a store and purchased some lemons and a 
piece of fresh beef; this he took back to the camp fire, 
and asked Abe to put it on and let it simmer all night in 
the ashes, in just enough water to cover it, and then to 
strain it in the morning, and bring the broth across to 
what was known in the camp as the “lonely tent.” He 
took a small phial of laudanum and quinine from the store 
of medicines, to use if they might appear likely to be 
needed, and then went back to the tent. 

“Now,” he said to the young man, “you lie down at 
once. If you are wanted I will be sure and wake you. I 
shall make myself comfortable, never fear; one of my 
mates will bring me down a pannikin of tea the last thing.” 

He squeezed one of the lemons into a tin drinking-cup, 
and added water and a few spoonfuls of brandy, and, with 
a spoon he had brought down with him, poured some of it 
between the old man’s lips. 

“I don’t know whether it’s right,” he thought to him- 
self, “but it’s the best thing I can do for him. It is evi- 
dent he must be kept up. When Abe comes down I will 
ask his advice; after knocking about as many years as he 
has been, he ought to know what is the best thing to be 
done.” 

In half an hour he gave the patient a few spoonfuls of 
the broth which had been prepared, and continued every 
half-hour to give him the lemonade and broth alternately. 

When Abe came down with the tea Frank went outside 
to meet him, and explained some of the circumstances of 
the case, and then took him in to see his patient. 

“I think you are doing the right thing, lad,” Abe said, 
when they went out into the air again. “He is evidently 
pretty nigh gone under. I expect he has been working 
beyond his strength, and starving, like enough, at that. 
He’s regular broke up, and has got the fever besides. I 
should just keep on at that till morning, and then we shall 


256 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR . 


see; if he gets on raving you might give him a few. drops 
of laudanum with his brandy, but I wouldn’t do it other- 
wise. I will bring down that broth first thing in the 
morning, it will be a sight stronger than that stuff you are 
giving him now.” 

Fortified by this opinion, Frank lit his pipe, and sat 
down to his long watch. He was the more satisfied that 
lie was doing right by the fact that the pulse was distinctly 
stronger than it had been when he first felt it. Occa- 
sionally the patient muttered a few words, but he generally 
lay perfectly still, with his eyes staring wide open. It was 
this fixed stare that tempted Frank at last to give him a 
few drops of laudanum, and in an hour later he had the 
satisfaction of seeing him close his eyes. 

Abe was round soon after daylight, with two pannikins 
of tea, some rashers of bacon, and a jug of the essence of 
beef. 

“How is your patient, Frank?” 

“I can’t tell, except by his pulse; but that certainly 
seems to me to be stronger. I gave him a few drops of 
laudanum a couple of hours ago, and it seems to me he has 
been dozing since; at any rate his eyes have been half- 
closed. I think that it is extreme weakness more than 
anything else; he has overtaxed his strength, and is 
worn out with fatigue and starvation. I shouldn’t be sur- 
prised if he gets round all right with quiet and food.” 
The opening of the tent, and the sound of voices outside, 
roused the younger digger, who had slept without stirring 
from the moment he had lain down. He joined the others 
outside. 

“How I have slept!” he said. “I can’t tell you how 
much I am obliged to you ; I was regularly done up, and 
now I shall be able to take a fresh start again.” 

“My partner, Abe, here, lias just brought us down some 
tea and breakfast, and some really strong soup for your 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY 'S HEIR. 


25? 


mate.” For Frank did not know whether the yonng man 
would wish the fact of the relationship between him and 
his companion generally known. 

“Thank you, heartily,” the young man said, as he seated 
himself by the side of Frank, on the stump of a felled tree, 
and took the tea and food from Abe’s hands. 

“ I feel ready to go on again now ; but last night I quite 
broke down. I have no one to speak to, you see, and it 
was awful to see him lying there, and to be able to do 
nothing. Your friend here,” and he nodded to Frank, 
“had been so kind to us a week ago, that I felt sure he 
would not mind sitting up with him, though I know he 
thought me a fool to go on digging at that wretched hole. 
I think he looks” — and he motioned to the tent — “a little 
better this morning. Of course there’s not much change; 
but his face does not look quite as it did yesterday. I 
don’t know what the difference is, but I am sure there is 
a difference.” 

“His pulse is certainly a little stronger,” Frank said, 
“and I hope we shall pull him round, though I did not 
think so when I saw him yesterday. I have been giving 
him broth every hour, and a few spoonfuls of lemonade 
with brandy in it between times, and I think the brandy 
has done him more good than the soup ; if I were in your 
place, I would go on doing just the same to-day. This 
soup Abe has brought down is very strong, and two or 
three spoonfuls at a time will be all he will w N ant; there is 
another lemon in there, and I would go on giving him 
brandy too; I think it’s just strength he wants.” 

“ Strength and hope,” the young man said. “ He has 
all along made up his mind that claim would pay, and I 
think its failure did more to break him down than even the 
fatigue and want of food ; that was why I kept on working 
as long as he was sensible. He still believed in it, and 
would not hear of my stopping to nurse him. He was very 


258 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY’S HEIR. 


bad that night I went home with the nugget, almost .as 
bad as he was last night; but when I showed it him he 
seemed to revive, and it was only when three days passed 
without my being able to show another speck of gold that 
he fell back again.” 

“Oh! you did find a nugget, then?” Abe said. “No 
one thought you would strike on anything tliar.” 

“I found it because your friend put it there,” the young 
man said, “and he saved both our lives, for we were 
starving.” 

Abe grunted. 

“You shouldn’t have kept it so dark, lad. We ain’t 
bad fellows, we diggers, though we are a rough lot, and no 
one need starve in a mining camp. But no doubt you had 
your reasons,” he added, seeing the miner’s face blush up. 
“ But what on arth made your mate stick to that thar hole? 
Any one could have seen with half an eye that it wasn’t a 
likely place.” 

“ He has a sort of belief in dreams, and he dreamed three 
times, as he told me, of a stunted tree with gold under- 
neath it. We have been to half the mining camps in the 
country, and never had any luck; but directly he came here 
he saw a tree standing just where our claim is, and he 
declared it was the one he dreamed of. I told him then it 
didn’t seem a likely place to work, but he would have it 
that it was the tree, and that there was gold under it. 
He was already weak and ill, and to please him I set to 
work there. I may tell you, as I have told your friend, 
that he is my father; there is no reason that there should 
be any mystery about it, and my only reason for wishing 
that it should not be generally known is that he had a sort 
of fancy against it.” 

“I guessed as much, young man,” Abe said, “when I 
saw you working together three weeks ago. A young man 
don’t tie himself to an old partner who ain’t no ljiore good 


CAPTAIN BAtLEY'S HEIN 


m 


than a child at work unless there’s some reason for it, and 
there’s many a father and son, ay, and a father and four 
or five sons, working together in every mining camp here. 
Still, if the old man has a fancy agin it we will say naught 
on the subject. So he dreamed three times of the tree, did 
he? Well, then, I don’t blame him for sticking to the 
claim; I don’t suppose there are a dozen miners in this 
camp who wouldn’t have done the same. I believes there’s 
something in dreams myself; most of us do. And he recog- 
nized the tree directly, you say? Wall, it’s time for my 
mate and I to be oft to work, but this evening I will walk 
round and have a look at your claim ; tliar may be some- 
what in it, arter all.” 

“You don’t really believe in dreams, Abe?” Frank said, 
as they walked off together. 

“I think thar’s something in ’em,” Abe said. “I have 
heard many a queer story about dreams, and I reckon thar 
ain’t many men as has lived out all thar lives in the plains 
as doubts thar’s something in ’em. The Injins believe in 
’em, and, though they ain’t got no books to larn ’em, the 
Injins ain’t fools in their own way. I have known a score 
of cases where dreams tame true.” 

“Yes, I dare say you have,” Frank said; “but then 
there are tens of thousands of cases in which dreams don’t 
come true. A man dreams, for instance, that his wife, or 
his mother, or some one he cares for, is dead; when he 
gets home he finds her all right, and never thinks any 
more about the dream, or says anything about it. If in 
one case out of ten thousand he finds she is dead, he tells 
every one about his dream, and it is quoted all about as an 
instance that dreams come true.” 

“Yes, perhaps there’s something in that,” Abe agreed. 
“But I think there’s more than that too. I know a case 
of a chap who was out in the plains hunting for a caravan 
on its way down to Santa Fe. There weren’t, as far as he 


260 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’8 HEIR. 

knew, any Injins about, and what thar was had always 
shown themselves friendly and peaceable. He laid down 
by the fire and went to sleep, and he dreamed that a party 
of Injins scalped him. He woke in a regular sweat from 
fright, and he was so badly scared that he scattered the 
ashes of his fire and took to his horse, and led him into a 
cedar bush close by. He hadn’t been thar twenty minutes 
when he heard tramping of horses, and along came a party 
of Injins. They halted not twenty yards' away from where 
his fire had been, and camped till the morning, and then 
rode on again. He could see by thar dress and paint they 
were up to mischief, and the very next day they fell upon 
a small caravan and killed every soul. Now that man’s 
dream saved his life; thar warn’t no doubt about that. If 
he hadn’t had warning, and had time to scatter his fire, 
and move quiet into the bush, and get a blanket over his 
horse’s head to prevent its snorting, it would have been all 
up with him; and I could tell you a dozen tales like that.” 

“I think that could be accounted for,” Frank said. 
“ The man perhaps was sleeping with his ear on the ground, 
and in his sleep may have heard the tramping of the 
Indians’ horses as they went over a bit of stony ground, 
long before he could hear them when he arose to his feet, 
and the noise set his brain at work, and he dreamed the 
dream you have told me. But I know from what I have 
heard that gold-miners are, almost to a man, full of fancies 
and superstitions, and that they will often take up claims 
from some idea of luck rather than from their experience 
and knowledge of ground.” 

After the work was over Abe and Frank went down to 
the claim. 

“Well, I am free to own,” Abe said, “that I don’t see 
no chance of gold here; it’s clear out of the course of the 
stream.” 

Frank was silent for two or three minutes*, and then 
said: 


CAPTAIN BA T LEY'S HEIR. 


261 


“Well, Abe, you know I put no faith whatever in a 
dream, but if you look at that sharp curve in the opposite 
bank higher up, you will see that it is quite possible that 
in the days when this was a river instead of being a mere 
stream, it struck that curve and came over by where we 
are standing now. As the water decreased it would natur- 
ally find its way down the middle of the valley, as it does 
now; but I think it likely enough that in the old times it 
flowed under where we are standing.” 

“By gosh, lad, I think you are about right. What do 
you say to our taking up the claims next to this? We are 
not doing much more than paying our’ way where we are, 
and it’s the horses who are really earning the money.” 

“I don’t know, Abe. We are a good deal above the 
present bed of the stream, and should probably have to 
sink a considerable distance before we got down to paying 
ground; that young fellow said they have hardly found a 
speck of gold. It would be a risky thing to do; still, we 
can think it over, there’s no hurry about it.” 

That night Abe insisted on taking his turn to sit up with 
the old man. The son, who had now told them that his 
name was James Adams, urged that the previous night’s 
long sleep had quite set him up again, but Abe would not 
listen to him. 

“It’s done you good, lad, no doubt, but ye will be all 
the better for another. It wants more than one night’s 
sleep when you have had four or five out of bed, and a 
night’s watch is nothing one way or other to me. You 
just do as you are told.” 

So James Adams had another long night’s sleep, while 
Abe sat by his father. 

There was no doubt now that the old man was recovering 
from the exhaustion which had brought him to death’s 
door; the set, pinched look of his features was passing 
away, and the evening following Abe’s watch, when Frank 


262 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


went round to the tent to inquire how he was getting on* 
the son came out and said: 

“ He is better. He went off this morning in what looked 
like a natural sleep, and when he woke, an hour ago, I 
could see that he knew me. I don’t suppose he knew he 
had been lying insensible for a week, but thought I had 
just come back from work. He whispered, ‘How does it 
look to-day, Jim?’ and after what you told me about what 
you thought about the old course of the river, I was able 
to say honestly, ‘I think the chances look more favorable.’ 
He whispered, ‘We shall make a fortune yet, Jim,’ and 
then drank some soup and went off to sleep again. To- 
morrow morning I will set to work again. I don’t believe 
a bit in the dream myself, but it will make him more com- 
fortable to know that I am at work upon it; and after all 
it may turn out some good.” 

“ My partners have more faith in it than I have,” Frank 
said. “Abe told them about the dream, and about what I 
had noticed of the probable course of the river in the olden 
times, and I have a proposal to make to you. We will take 
up five claims by the side of your two, two on one side and 
three on the other; then three of us will help you sink 
your shaft. All that’s found in your claims will he yours; 
and if it turns out rich you shall pay us just as if we had 
been working for you by the day. When we have cleared 
out your claims we are to have the right of using your 
shaft for working right and left along the bottom over 
our claims. I think that’s a fair offer.” 

“I think it’s more than fair; it is most kind,” the young 
man said. “You are risking getting nothing for your 
labor if it turns out poor.” 

“Yes, we are risking that,” Frank agreed, “but we are 
not doing ourselves much good now. The two who are 
working the horses earn enough to keep the five of us, and 
if by any chance your claims should turn out well, we shall 


CAPTAIN BAILEY'S HEIR . 


263 


be paid for onr work for yon, and will be able to work out 
our own claims very cheaply; if we sunk a shaft on our 
own account we should similarly lose our labor if it turned 
out poor, and should not get so much if it turned out rich. 
So I think the bargain is really a fair one; and if you do 
not agree, my mates have quite resolved to sink a shaft on 
their own account on the strength of your father’s dream.” 

“In that case I agree most heartily,” James Adams said, 
“and it will gladden my father’s heart to be told that the 
work is now to go on really in earnest.” 

“If he is better to-morrow,” Frank said, “it will be as 
well to get your father’s consent to the agreement, and 
then we will begin on the following day.” 

The next morning the old man woke up a good deal 
better. His first question, after he had taken some soup, 
was: 

“How is it you aren’t at work, Jim? It’s broad day- 
light.” 

“ I have knocked off for to-day, father, I wanted to have 
a chat with you. A party of five miners, who have been 
very kind to me while you have been ill — for you have 
been ill now for more than a week, though you don’t know 
it — have made me a very good offer, although I could not 
accept it until I consulted you. You see I cannot get on 
much with the claim by myself; the ground falls in and 
wants timbering, and I can do nothing alone. Well, these 
miners have offered to help sink our shaft, on the condi- 
tions that they get no pay if it turns out poor, but if it 
turns out well they are to be paid for their daily labor, and 
when we have worked out our claims they are to have the 
right of using our shaft for working out the claims they 
have staked out next to ours.” 

“No shares, Jim,” the old man said; “you are sure they 
are not to have any share in our claims, because I won’t 
agree to that.” 


264 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


“No, father; the agreement is just as I told you. If.it 
turns out well they get their wages and the right to use 
our shaft to get at their claims.” 

“Very well, I will agree to that; we shall get down all 
the sooner to our gold. But mind, have it put down on 
paper, else they will be setting up a claim to a share in our 
treasure.” 

“I will get it done regularly, father,” Jim said. “They 
mean very fairly. As I told you, they have shown me the 
greatest kindness — indeed you owe your life to them, for 
if it had not been for them, I had, as you know, no means 
whatever of holding on. While you have been ill two 
of them have been sitting up with you at night. They 
have showed themselves true friends.” 

“Well, I am glad you have found some friends, Jim,” 
the old man said feebly. “But you must be careful, you 
know, very careful, and be sure the agreement is signed and 
witnessed properly.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


265 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A DREAM VERIFIED. 

On the following morning, to the astonishment of the 
miners of Cedar Camp, Frank and his companions took 
their tools out of their claims and shifted to the claims of 
the two men of the “solitary tent.” Every one asked 
himself what could be the meaning of this move, and the 
general supposition was that they must have discovered 
that the two men had struck upon rich ground. Scores of 
miners sauntered across during the day, looked on, and 
asked a question or two; but the answers they obtained 
threw no light upon the mystery. The ground looked 
most unpromising ; it was a flat some ten feet above the 
level of the river-bed, and the spot where they were dig- 
ging was twenty yards from the edge. 

Fifteen yards further back the ground rose abruptly to 
a height of thirty or forty feet; the ground around was 
covered with bushes, through which a few good-sized trees 
rose. The two men had dug through two feet of alluvial 
soil, and about five feet of sand. Altogether, it was a 
place which seemed to afford no promise whatever; and 
although, at the first impulse, some miners who were doing 
badly had marked out claims next to those staked out by 
Frank and his party, no steps were taken to occupy them. 

The first day was spent in getting out planks and lining 
the proposed shaft, which was made much smaller than the 
hole already dug, which extended over the whole of the 


266 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR . 


two claims. The next day a windlass was put in position, 
and the work began in earnest. At the depth of twenty 
feet they came upon gravel, a result which greatly raised 
their spirits, as its character was precisely similar to that 
in the bed of the stream, and showed that Frank’s conjec- 
ture was a correct one, and that the river had at one time 
flowed along the foot of the high ground beyond. 

When it was known in camp that the party were getting 
up gravel, there was a great deal of talk. Some* of the 
older hands came and examined the place, and, noticing 
the sharp curve in the opposite bank above, concluded, as 
Frank had done, that instead of being, as was generally 
supposed, beyond the edge of the old river-bed, it was by 
no means improbable that the party were working over 
what was at one time a point which was swept by the main 
body of water coming down. 

More claims were staked out, and although no one had 
any intention of beginning in earnest until they discovered 
what luck attended the party who were sinking the shaft, 
just enough was done each day to retain possession of the 
claims. Before they had gone far into the gravel they dis- 
covered specks of gold, and, washing a basinful from time 
to time, found that it was fairly rich, certainly as good as 
any that had been found a few feet below the surface of 
the ground at any other spot in the camp. They deter- 
mined, however, not to wash at present, but to pile the 
stufl near the mouth of the shaft, to be washed subse- 
quently, and to continue to sink steadily. 

A fortnight after the work had begun the old man had 
gained sufficient strength to make his way across to the 
shaft, and after that he spent his whole time watching the 
progress of the work. His tent was brought over and 
pitched close at hand. By this time, as their prospects 
really looked good, Jim had told him the true' history of 
the nugget he had brought home, and how much they 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


267 


owed to Frank ; and he so far overcame his shrinking from 
intercourse with his neighbors as to become really cordial 
with Frank, who, when supper was over, often strolled across 
and smoked a pipe with Jim in the tent. 

Frank often wondered what could have brought a man 
of some sixty years of age, and evidently well educated, 
and a gentleman, but, as was equally clear, wholly unfitted 
by age, habits, and constitution for rough labor in such a 
country as that. The son had not denied that he was 
Euglish, but as he had not admitted it in so many words, 
Frank thought that his father might object to any ques- 
tions on the subject, and in their many Conversations the 
past was seldom alluded to. 

Turk, who was Frank’s constant companion, .took 
remarkably to the old man, and in the daytime, when the 
latter was sitting watching the baskets coming up from 
below, generally took up his position by him, sometimes 
lying blinking lazily in the sun, at other times sitting up 
and watching the operations gravely, as if he were 
thoroughly aware of their importance. 

While the ground was still unpromising, Frank and his 
party had bought up, for a few dollars, the claims of sev- 
eral of the men who had staked out ground next to their 
own, and now held six on either side of the claim they 
were sinking on. Beyond these, as soon as the gravel was 
known to contain gold, other miners began to work — for 
the most part in parties, as the depth at which paying 
ground lay beneath the surface was so great that it could 
only be reached by joint labor — and the flat so long ne- 
glected now became one of the busiest points in the camp. 

“The gravel is getting richer and richer every day,” 
Frank said to the elder Adams, five weeks after they began 
work. “I think now it would be as well to hire half a 
dozen men to carry it down to the stream and wash it 
there; you could superintend them, and one of us will 


268 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


work at the cradle. The stuff will pay splendidly now, I 
am sure, and there’s a big heap on the. bank.” 

“ If you think so, by all means let us do so,” the old man 
said. “I should like to begin to get some gold; we are in 
your debt more than a hundred dollars already, since you 
have been advancing money for our living as the work has 
gone on.” 

“ There is no hurry on that account,” Frank said. “ Ever 
since we washed the first pail of gravel it has been evident 
that there was at least sufficient gold to pay for washing 
out, and that my advances were perfectly safe; so there is 
no hurry on that account. But at present it has so im- 
proved that it would be rich enough to pay really well ; 
besides, we shall be getting it stolen. I fancy last night 
two or three bucketsful were taken away at that edge of 
the bank; and as there has been a perfect rush for staking 
out claims to-day, I have no doubt that it was found to 
pan out very rich.” 

The result of the first day’s washing more than realized 
their anticipations, for when the cradle was cleared up over 
fifty ounces of gold were found at the bottom; and at the 
end of three days the old man paid Frank and his party 
their wages at four dollars a day each from the time they 
had commenced working at the shaft. 

Another fortnight and they reached the bed rock. Each 
day the find had become heavier, but the climax was reached 
when they touched the rock. It was found that just where 
they reached the bottom, the rock which formed the bank 
bordering the flat came down almost perpendicularly to 
the level rock which had formed the old bed of the stream. 
This was worn perfectly smooth by the action of the water, 
and in the bed rock was a great caldron scooped out by 
an eddy of the stream. This was filled up with gravel, 
among which nuggets of gold were lying thickly; and when 
its contents were taken to the surface and separated, the 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


269 


gold was fonnd to weigh over three thousand ounces. The 
lower part of the ground was then dug out to the full size 
of the claim, and when all this was washed it was found 
that the total amount of gold obtained from the claim was 
over six thousand ounces. 

As the work went on from day to day, Frank observed a 
gradual change coming over the elder of the two men. At 
first he had been excited, and at times irritable; but as 
each day showed increased returns, and it became a moral 
certainty that the claim was going to turn out extremely 
rich, the excitement seemed to pass away. He talked less, 
and spent less of his time in watching tlie work going on, 
sometimes not even coming down to watch the clear up at 
the end of the day’s work. Even the discovery of the rich 
pocket in the rock scarcely seemed to stir him. His son, 
upon the contrary, made no secret of his satisfaction at the 
fortune which was falling to them. He shook off tho 
reserve which had at first distinguished him ; a weight of 
care seemed to fall from his shoulders, and his spirits 
became at times almost exuberant. 

At first he had looked to Frank almost a middle-aged 
man, although his face and figure showed that he could not 
he many years his own senior; now he looked almost like a 
schoolboy, so full was he of life and spirits. The old 
man had taken much to Frank, and although during the 
latter part of the time he had talked hut little, he liked 
him to come into the tent every evening to smoke a pipe 
and chat with his son. He had several times endeavored 
to draw from Frank his reason for leaving England and 
coming out to California at an age when many lads are 
still at school; but he had obtained no reply to his hints, 
for Frank did not care to enter upon the story of that inci- 
dent at Westminster. 

The evening when the claims had been worked out, and 
the last cradle washed out, the old man asked Frank to 


m 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


bring Abe and his companions to the tent after they had 
had their supper. The tent showed little signs of the 
altered circumstances of its owners; a few more articles of 
cheap crockery and a couple of folding chairs were the only 
additions that had been made. Some boxes had been 
brought in now to serve as seats, and on one in the center 
were placed half a dozen bottles of champagne, which the 
young man proceeded to open. 

“My friends,” the elder said, “I am going away to- 
morrow, and I trust that your claims will turn out every 
bit as rich as ours has done.” 

“Even if they don’t turn out as rich,” Frank said, 
“there is no fear of their not turning out well. We con- 
sider we have made a capital bargain with you ; we have 
been paid by you for our work in sinking the shaft, and 
now it will be easy for us to work our claims. It was a 
lucky day for us when we made that contract to sink your 
shaft.” 

“I am glad you think so, and very glad that you are 
likely to share my luck; still, I feel greatly indebted to 
you. It was a bargain, of course, but it was a bargain in 
which you were taking all the risk. There is, as you say, 
every probability of your claims turning out well; but 
there’s no certainty in gold-mining, and at any rate we 
cannot go away with a fortune without feeling that, to some 
small extent at least, you will participate in it. Therefore 
I here hand you over each a bag with a hundred ounces of 
gold, so that, come what may, your time and labor here 
will not have been thrown away. You will not, I hope, 
pain me by refusing,” he said, seeing that the men looked 
doubtfully at each other. “ We owe it all to you, for when 
you threw in your lot with us we were desperate and 
starving.” 

“Wall, if you put it in that way, I don’t see that we can 
say no, mate,” Abe said, “though we are well content with 


V APT Am B At LET'S LtEtB. 


271 


bur lookout, I can tell you, and could get a biggish sum 
for our claims to-night if we were disposed to sell them. 
Still, what you says is true, though it isn’t every one who 
makes a good thing out of a bargain as is ready to go 
beyond it. It was a fortunate day for you maybe that 
you fell in with my mate here, and it was a fortunate day 
for us when he fell in with you. When I goes back east 
and settles down on a farm I has got my eyes on, I shall 
always say as I owed my luck to my mate strolling over to 
talk to the two men as was working what seemed a hope- 
less claim in Cedar Camp. 

“Wall, I suppose you are going back with your pile to 
the old country. I can only say as we wish you good luck 
thar, and plenty of enjoyment out of your money. Here’s 
luck.” 

The miners all emptied their glasses, and then, shaking 
hands with father and son, filed out of the tent. Frank 
was about to follow them when he was stopped by a gesture 
from the old man. He had not liked accepting the pres- 
ent, but he did not wish to act differently from his com- 
rades, and he saw that his refusal would really hurt the 
donor. 

“Sit down a bit, lad,” he said; “James is going to the 
camp to get a few things for our journey to-morrow, and 
I shall be alone, and now that it’s all over I feel the 
reaction. It has been an exciting time the last month.” 

“ It has indeed,” Frank agreed, “and I have often thought 
to myself what a comfort it was that they had established 
a regular way of sending down gold twice a week with an 
escort; it would have been terrible if you had had to keep 
all that gold by you.” 

“Yes, I often thought so myself, and your offer to keep 
the gold in your tent on the days when the escort wasn’t 
going was a great relief to me.” 

“It was safe enough with us,” Frank said. “Ho one 


CAPTAIN PA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


m 

would venture to try a tent with a pretty strong party; but 
with only your son and yourself there might have been a 
temptation to some broken-down gambler to carry it off. 
Besides, we have Turk as a guard, and I don’t fancy any 
one would venture to try any tricks with our tent while he 
is inside it.” 

“Well, I hope it will be your turn now,” the old man 
said, “ and that before another two months are over you 
too will be setting out on your way home with what your 
friend called your pile.” 

“I shall not be doing that,” Frank said; “whatever we 
find, I have no thought of going back to England.” 

“No? Well, lad, I don’t want your confidence if you 
would rather not give it; but I will tell you my story, and 
perhaps when you have heard it you may be the more 
inclined to tell me yours. It is a painful story to tell, but 
that is part of my punishment; and you, lad, have a right 
to hear it, for I know that it is to you I owe my life, and 
that it is through you that I am to-morrow going home to 
do all that I can to retrieve my fault, and to wipe out the 
stain on my name. I was a solicitor, with a good practice, 
in a town of the west of England— it does not matter what 
its name was. I lost my wife, and then, like a fool, I 
took to drink. No one knew it except my son, for I never 
went out in the evening, but would sit at home drinking 
by myself till I could scarce stagger up to bed. 

“He did all that he could to persuade me to give it up, 
but it had got too strong a hold upon me. At last we quar- 
reled over it, and he left the house, and henceforth we 
only met at the office. He was engaged to be married to 
the daughter of our vicar. When the crash came — for in 
these cases a crash is sure to come sooner or later— the 
business had fallen off, aud a bill was presented for pay- 
ment which I had altogether forgotten I had signed. Then 
there was an investigation into my affairs. I could help 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


m 

but little, for there were but few hours in the day now 
when my brain was clear enough to attend to any business 
whatever. Then it was found that ten thousand pounds 
which had been given me to invest by one of my clients 
had never been invested, and that it was gone with the 
rest. 

“ I had not intended to do anything dishonest, that even 
now I can affirm. I had intended to invest it, but in my 
muddled state put off doing so, and had gone on paying 
the interest as if it had been invested as ordered. When I 
knew that I had not enough in the bank to replace it, I 
went into foolish speculations to regain what I had lost; 
but until the crash came I had never fairly realized that I had 
not only ruined myself but was a swindler. I shall never 
forget the morning when James, who had been up all night 
going through my papers with my head-clerk, came down 
and told me what he had discovered. I was still stupid 
from what I had drunk overnight, but that sobered me. 
I need not tell you what passed between my son and me. 
I swore never to touch liquor again. He sold out of con- 
sols five thousand pounds which he had inherited from his 
mother, and handed it over to the man I had defrauded, 
giving him his personal bond that he would repay the rest 
of the money, should he live; and on those terms my client 
agreed to abstain from prosecuting me, and to maintain an 
absolute silence as to the affair. 

“Then Jim broke off his engagement, and took passages 
for us in a sailing ship for Panama, and so on to San Fran- 
cisco. I need not tell you the struggle it was to keep to 
my promise; but when Jim had given up everything for 
me, the least I could do was to fight hard for his sake. 
My thoughts were always fixed on California, my only 
hopes that I might live to see the rest of the debt repaid, 
and the boy’s money replaced, so that he could buy a busi- 
ness and marry the woman he loved. I dreamed of it over 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEffi. 


m 

and over again, and, as I told yon, three times I dreamed 
of the exact spot where we are now sitting. 

“Somehow, in my dreams, I knew that if I dug straight 
down under the old tree that formed the center of the 
dreams I should find gold. This became a fixed idea with 
me, and when we reached the gold-fields I never stopped 
long in camp, so bent was I upon finding the tree of my 
dreams. Jim bore with me wonderfully. I knew he did 
not believe in my dream, but he was always ready to go 
where I wanted. I think now he thought that I was going 
out of my mind, or feared that if he thwarted me 1 might 
take to drink again. However, at last we found the tree — 
at least I was positive it was the tree of my dreams. James 
tried to dissuade me from digging in a place which looked 
so unpromising; but nothing would deter me save death, 
and you see the result. We shall go back; the debt will 
be cleared off, Jim will marry his sweetheart, and I shall 
live with him to the end of my days. He is a grand fellow 
is Jim, though I dare say it didn’t strike you so when you 
first knew him.” 

“He is a grand fellow,” Frank agreed heartily, “and I 
am truly glad, Mr. Adams, that all has turned out so well.” 

“And now, can you tell me something of yourself, 
Frank? It is to you we owe it that things have turned 
out well; and if, as I rather guess, you have got into some 
scrape at home, I can only say that my son and myself will 
be very glad to share our fortune with you, and to take 
one-third of it each.” 

“I thank you greatly, sir, for your generous offer, but it 
would be of no use to me. I have, as you suspect, got 
into a scrape at home, but it is from no fault of my own. 
I have been wrongfully suspected of committing a crime; 
and until that charge is in some way or other cleared up, 
and the slur on my name wiped off, I would not return to 
England if I had a hundred thousand pounds.” 


GAP TAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 




i{ And can nothing be done? Would it be any use what- 
ever to set to work on any line you can suggest? I would 
make it my own business, and follow up any clew you could 
give me.” 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Adams; thank you with 
all my heart; but nothing can be done, there is nothing to 
follow. It was not a question of a crime so committed 
that many outside persons would be interested in it, or that 
it could be explained in a variety of ways. So far as the 
case went it was absolutely conclusive, so conclusive that I 
myself, knowing that I was innocent, could see no flaw in 
the evidence against myself nor for months afterward could 
I perceive any possible explanation save in my own guilt. 
Since then I have seen that there is an alternative. It is one 
so painful to contemplate that I do not allow myself to think 
of it, nor does it seem to me that even were I myself upon 
the spot, with all the detective force of England to aid me, 
I could succeed in proving that alternative to be the true 
one except by the confession of the person in question. 

“If he were capable of planning and carrying out the 
scheme which brought about my disgrace, he certainly is 
not one who would under any conceivable circumstances 
confess what he has done. Therefore, there is nothing 
whatever to be done in the matter. Years and years hence, 
if I make a fortune out here, I may go home and say to 
those whose esteem and affection I have lost, ‘I have no 
more evidence now than I had when I left England to 
support my simple declaration that I was innocent, but at 
least I have nothing to gain by lying now. I have made a 
fortune, and would not touch one penny of the inheritance 
which would once have been mine. I simply come before 
you again solemnly to declare that I was innocent, wholly 
and conclusively as appearances were against me.’ It may 
be that the word of a prosperous man will be believed, 
though that of a disgraced schoolboy was more than 
doubted.” 


276 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


“ And is there no one to whom I could carry the assur- 
ance of your innocence?” Mr. Adams asked. “Someone 
may still be believing in you in spite of appearances. It 
might gladden some one’s heart were I to bear them from 
your lips this fresh assurance; were I to tell them how you 
have saved me when all hope seemed lost; were I to tell 
them how all here speak well of you, and how absolutely I 
am convinced that some hideous mistake must have been 
made.” 

Frank sat for some time silent. 

“Yes,” he said, at last. “I have a little cousin, a girl, 
she was like my sister; I hope — I think that, in spite of 
everything, she may still have believed me innocent. Will 
you see her and tell her you have seen me? Say no more 
until you see by her manner whether she believes me to be 
a rascal or not. If she does, give her no clew to the part 
of the world where you have come across me; simply say 
that I wished her to know that I was alive and well. If 
you see that she still, in spite of everything, believes that 
I am innocent, then tell her that I affirm on my honor and 
word that I am innocent, though I see no way whatever of 
ever proving it; that I do not wish her to tell my uncle 
she heard from me; that I do not wish her to say one word 
to him, for that, much as I value his affection, I would not 
for the world seem to be trying to regain the place he 
thinks I have forfeited, until I can appear before him as 
a rich man whom nothing could induce to touch one penny 
of his money, and who values only his good-will and esteem. 
That is her name and address.” 

And Frank wrote on the leaf of his pocket-book, “ Alice 
Hardy, 354 Eaton Square.” 

“I do not think you will have to deliver the message; it 
is hardly possible that she should not, as my uncle has 
done, believe me to be guilty. Still, I do cling to the pos- 
sibility of it. That is why I hesitate in giving you the 


CAPTAIN HATLEY'S HEIR. 


m 

Commission, for if it fails I shall lose my last pleasant 
thought of home. If you find she has believed in me, write 
to me at Sacramento, to the care of Woolfe & Company, 
of whom I always get my stores. There is no saying where 
I may be in four or five months’ time, for it will take that 
before I can hear from you. It may be, in that case, she 
too will write. If she does not believe in me, do not write 
at all; I shall understand your silence; and, above all, 
unless you find she believes in me, say no more than that I 
am alive and well, and give no clew whatever to the part 
of the world where we have met.” 

“I will discharge your commission,” Mr. Adams said. 
“But do not be impatient for an answer; I may not find a 
steamer going down to Panama for some time, and may 
have to go thence to New York, and thence take steamer 
to Europe. I may find on my arrival that the young lady 
is absent from home, perhaps traveling with her father, 
and there may be defies.” 

“My uncle is not her father,” Frank said; “she is a 
ward of his. But I will not be impatient; not for six 
months will I give up such hope as I have.” 

“There is one more thing before I say good-night,” Mr. 
Adams said. “I have been in great need, and know how 
hard it is to struggle when luck is against one, and I should 
like to give a small sum as a sort of thank-offering for the 
success which has attended me. In a mining camp there 
must be many whom a little might enable to tide on until 
luck turns. Will you be my almoner? Here is a bag 
with a hundred ounces of gold, the last we got to-day from 
our claim. Will you take it, and from time to time give 
help in the way of half a sack of flour and other provisions 
to men who may be down in the world from a run of ill- 
luck, and not from any fault of their own?” 

“I will gladly do so,” Frank replied; “such a fund as 
this would enable me to gladden the hearts of scores of 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HE TP. 


m 


men. Yon can rely upon it, sir, that I will take care to 
see that it is laid out in accordance with your instructions.” 

After leaving the tent, Frank found James Adams sit- 
ting down on a log a short distance away. 

“I would not disturb you,” the latter said, “as I thought 
perhaps you were having a chat with my father — indeed he 
told me he should like to have a talk with you alone; hut 
1 want myself to tell you how conscious I am that I owe 
my happiness to yon. Has my father told you how I am 
situated, and that 1 am going home to claim the dearest 
girl in the world, if, as I hope and believe, I shall find she 
has waited for me?” 

“Your father has told me more,” Frank said; “he has 
told me how nobly you devoted your life to his, and why, 
and I am truly glad that so much good has come of our meet- 
ing. More than that first little help I must disclaim, for it 
was Abe and not I who believed in your father’s dreams, 
which I confess I had no shadow of belief in, though they 
have, so unaccountably to me, been verified.” 

“Nothing you can say, Frank, will minimize what you 
have done for us. You saved my father’s life. If it had 
not been for you his dream would never have been carried 
into effect, and he would now be lying in the graveyard on 
the top of the hill, and I should be working hopelessly as 
a day laborer. I only want to say, that if at any time you 
want a friend, you can rely upon James Adams up to the 
last penny he has in the world.” 

The next morning Mr. Adams and his son started for 
San Francisco, and Frank and his party began to work 
their claims from the bottom of the shaft. Although they 
paid well, they proved far less rich than they had expected ; 
they got good returns from the gravel, but found no 
pockets in the bed rock, which was perfectly smooth and 
even. They found that on either side of the Adams’ 
claims the wall of rock behind swept round ; this, no doubt, 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


279 


had caused an eddy at this spot, which had worked out the 
hole in the bed rock, and caused the deposit of so large a 
quantity of gold here; and, singularly enough, Mr. Adams’ 
dream had led him to take up the exact spot under which 
alone the gold had been so largely deposited. The party 
had taken on several hands, and six weeks sufficed to clear 
out the paying stuff in their claims, and it was found that, 
after paying all their expenses, there remained eight hun- 
dred ounces of gold ; a handsome result, hut still very far 
below what they had reason to expect from the richness of 
the stuff in the claims lying in the center of their ground. 

This, however, added to the five hundred ounces they 
had received from Mr. Adams, gave them a total of about 
a thousand pounds each. They held a consultation on the 
night of the final clean-up. Two of the party were dis- 
posed to return east with their money, but they finally 
came round to Abe’s view. 

“A thousand pounds is a nice sum — I don’t say it ain’t 
— for less than six months’ work; still, to my mind, now 
we are here, with the chance of doing just as well if we go 
on, I think it would be a fool’s trick to give it up. Five 
thousand dollars will buy a good farm east, but one could 
work it with a good deal more comfort aud sartainty if one 
had another five thousand lying in the bank ready to draw 
upon in case of bad times. We ain’t fools; we don’t mean 
to gamble or drink away what we have made, it will just 
lie in the bank at Sacramento until we want to draw it. 
If w r e work another year we may double it, but we can’t 
make it less; we have got our horses still, and I vote we 
go back to our work as it was before, three of us digging 
and two carrying. We know that way we can pay our 
expenses, however bad our luck may be, so thar ain’t 
nothing to lose in sticking to it for a bit longer, and thar 
may be a lot to gain.” 

This view prevailed^ and in a short time the party 


280 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


moved off to another place; for Cedar Camp was getting 
deserted, the other claims taken up on the flat had paid 
their way, but little more, and the men were off to new 
discoveries, of which they had heard glowing accounts. 

For the next two months no marked success attended 
the labors of Frank and his comrades, they paid their 
expenses, and that was all. Frank enjoyed the life; he 
was in no hurry to get rich, and it gave him great pleasure 
to be able occasionally to give a helping hand to miners 
whose luck was bad, from the fund with which Mr. Adams 
had intrusted him. The work was hard, but he scarcely 
felt it, for his muscles were now like steel, and his frame 
had widened out until he was as broad and strong as any 
of his companions, and few would have recognized in him 
the lad who had shipped on hoard the Mississippi fifteen 
months before. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


281 


CHAPTER XIX. 

STBIKING IT RICH. 

Twice the party of gold-diggers shifted their location, 
each time following a rush to some freshly discovered 
locality; but no stroke of good fortune attended them. 
At the end of each week a few ounces of gold remained to 
be added to the pile after the payment of expenses, but so 
far the earnings of the carriers far exceeded those of the 
diggers. One day, as Abe and Frank were just starting 
on their way down to Sacramento, they met three men 
coming along, each leading two laden horses. As the two 
teams met there was a shout of recognition. 

“Heillo, Abe! I have been asking for you of every one 
since we got here six months ago, but no one seemed to 
know your party.” 

“We have been asking for you too,” Abe said, “It 
seems curious that we. should be here so long and never run 
agin each other; but there are such a lot of mining camps, 
and every one works too hard to spend much time thinking 
about his neighbors. I expected we should run across each 
other one of these days. And how goes it with you? 
How’s every one?” 

“ We are broke up a bit,” John Little said. “It wasn’t 
to be expected as we should hang together long after we 
once got out here; one thought one place best, and another 
another; but I and my two mates here, and long Simpson, 
and Alick, and Jones, we have stuck together.” 

“And where are you now?” Abe inquired. 


282 


CAPTAIN BATLET’S HEIR. 


“Well, I will tell yon, Abe, and I wouldn’t tell any 
one else; but I said to you, ‘If we ever makes a strike you 
are in it.’ We have been prospecting np in the gulches of 
the North Yuba. We found as we couldn’t get- places 
worth working in the other camps, so we concluded it war 
best to find out a spot for ourselves; so we six have been 
a-grubbing and digging up among the mountains, and I tell 
you we have hit it hot. We three, washing with pans for 
four hours one morning, got out eight-and-twenty ounces 
of gold.” 

“That was something like,” Abe said, in admiration. 

“I reckon it war. Well, we covered the place up, and 
left our three mates to look arter it, telling them not to 
dig or make any sign until we came back. We sold the 
wagons and teams when we first got over, for they were no 
good to us in the mountains, and bought horses so as to 
keep ourselves supplied with provisions. We agreed before 
we began work we would come down to the town and get 
enough to last us, then we would move up quietly at night 
to our find, stake out our claims, and begin to work. Now 
if you and your four mates likes to join us, you are 
welcome.” 

“Well, that’s a downright friendly offer, mate, and you 
bet we accept it. We had one capital stroke of luck, but 
since that worked out we haven’t done much at digging, 
though Frank here and me has done very fair, trucking 
goods up from Sacramento. Where are your women?” 

“Well,” the other said, “we had some trouble about 
them. You see thar ain’t many women up at the camps, 
they are rough places, and not fit for them. So we agreed 
that for the present it were best they should keep out of 
it. So we bought a little place with ten or twelve acres of 
ground, down at the foot of the hills, and there our wives 
and the kids are stopping. There’s a big orchard, and 
they are raising vegetables, and when we goes down for 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’8 HEIR . 


283 


supplies we brings up a load or two of fruit and vegetables, 
and rare prices they fetch, I can tell you, more nor enough 
to keep them all down there. But we have agreed to bring 
two of them up now to cook, and wash and leave the others 
to look arter the place and the kids. Simpson and Jones 
ain’t married, you know. Women have a right to claims 
as well as men, and of course we shall take up for those we 
bring up, as well as for two big lads; so that will give us 
ten claims, besides the extra claims for discovery. So 
with your five claims we can get hold of a tidy bit of 
ground. We are going to take these stores up now, and 
leave them in charge of our friends in the gulch, who will 
keep them hid in the woods, and then we can go back and 
bring up the women and a cargo of vegetables.” 

“Well, in four days we will meet you here. I will take 
all the horses and load them up. We were going to bring 
up flour for the storekeeper, but now we will get stores for 
ourselves. We will bring as much as we can get along 
with. We can sell what we don’t want, for there is sure 
to be a rush in a short time. Frank shall go back and tell 
the storekeeper we ain’t a-coming with the flour.” 

This was arranged, and four days later Abe and his party 
arrived at the spot agreed on, and an hour or two later the 
cavalcade, with the three men, two women, and two boys 
of fifteen or sixteen years old* came up, and the united 
party started together. It was some fifty miles to the spot 
where the gold had been discovered. Sometimes they 
wound along in deep valleys, passing several camps in full 
operation. At the last camp, which was a small one, a few 
questions were asked them as to their destination. 

“We are just going a-prospecting for the mountain of 
gold,” Abe replied, “and as we have got six months’ stores 
aboard we mean to find it. We will send you down a few 
nuggets when we get up there.” 

“ We shall have some of them after us in a day or two,” 


284 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR. 


John Little said; “every one suspects every one else; and 
they will make a pretty story of it, I guess, thinking as we 
shouldn’t have brought the women up all this distance 
without having some place in onr minds.” 

At last they arrived at their destination, the mouth of 
a little gorge running olf the deep valley of the North 
Yuba. The gorge widened out into a narrow valley, and 
the party made its way among the pebbles and boulders at 
its bottom for a quarter of a mile, and then three men 
came out from among the trees and greeted them heartily. 

“No one has been up here?” John Little asked. 

“Two chaps came up and prospected about a bit, but 
they did not seem to hit on the right place; at any rate 
they went away again.” 

“All the better,” John said. “Now let us stake out 
our claims at once, then we are all right, whoever comes.” 

The spot selected was at the head of the little valley ; it 
ended here abruptly, and the stream came down forty feet 
precipitously into a hollow. 

“This looks a likely spot, indeed,” Abe said; “there 
must have been a thundering great waterfall here in the 
old days. I expect it wore a hole for itself in the rock, 
and if it is as rich as you say on the surface, there is no 
saying how rich it may be when we get down to the bed 
rock.” 

They had already settled that the two parties should 
work in partnership, and as, including the women and 
boys, they numbered fifteen, and could take up the five 
claims which, by mining law, the discoverer of a new place 
was entitled to, they had in all twenty claims, which gave 
them the whole of the little amphitheater at the foot of 
the fall for a distance of fifty yards down. 

The men all set to work with their axes, and by night- 
fall much had been done. Frank’s party had their tent, 
apd the two small tents of the other party were allotted to 


CAPTAIN BA YLET 'S HEIR. 


285 


the married couples. A rough hut was got up for the rest 
of the men; this was to act as the kitchen and general 
room. A storehouse was erected of stout logs, with earth 
piled thickly over it to keep out the wet, and here their 
stores were securely housed. The tents and huts were on 
the slope, where the rocks widened out twenty yards below 
the bottom of their claim. 

It was late in the second evening before the work was 
done. All were anxious to test the ground, but it was 
agreed not to touch it until they had housed themselves. 
At daybreak they were at work, and soon all were washing 
out pans of gravel at the stream ; the results fully justified 
their expectations, there being a residuum of glittering 
grains at the bottom of each pan varying in weight from a 
pennyweight to a quarter of an ounce. 

“ Now,” Abe said, “I should suggest that we makes a 
big cradle, fifteen feet long by three feet wide, and hang 
it on cross poles so as to be able to rock it easily; then we 
will dam up the stream at the top of the fall, and lead it 
down straight through a shoot into the cradle; of course 
the shoot will have a sluice so as to let in just as nfuch 
water as we want, and that way two men will do the work 
of eight or ten washing.” 

Abe’s plan was agreed to, and all the men set to work to 
construct the dam, cradle, and shoot. 

It took two days’ hard labor before all was in readiness, 
and then the work began in earnest. Two men swayed 
the cradle, four others shoveled the gravel and dirt into it, 
three continually stirred the contents and swept off the 
large stones and pebbles from the top, while the other two 
carried them away beyond the boundaries of their claims. 

At the lower end of the cradle was a sheet of iron per- 
forated with holes, large at the top, but getting smaller 
lower down, and altogether closed four inches from the 
bottom; through these holes the sand and gravel flowed 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR . 


away. All day they worked vigorously and without inter- 
mission, and great was the excitement when, at the end of 
the day’s work, they proceeded to clear up by emptying 
the cradle and examining the bottom. A shout of satisfac- 
tion arose as the particles of gold were seen lying thickly in 
the gravel at the bottom of the cradle. Very carefully 
this was washed out, and it was found that there were over 
fifty ounces of gold dust. 

“ I believe,” Abe said, “ that we have hit upon the richest 
spot in Californy. Ef it’s like this on the surface, what 
is it going to be like when we get down to the bed rock?” 

The next morning two diggers arrived on the scene; 
they saw at once by the methodical manner in which the 
place was being worked that the party must have found 
gold in paying quantities. 

“Is it rich, mates?” they asked eagerly. 

“Ay,” Abe replied, “rich enough for anything. There 
are the boundaries of our claims, lads, and ye are welcome 
to set to work below them.” 

The miners threw off their coats, and at once set to 
work, and a shout of exultation greeted the result of the 
first bucket of stuff they washed out. 

“Another week,” Abe said, “and every foot of ground 
in the gulch from here down to the Yuba will be taken up. 
The news will spread like wildfire.” 

His anticipations were justified, and no one who came 
along a fortnight later would have recognized, in the scene 
of life and activity, the quiet wooded valley which Abe 
and his party had entered. The trees on the lower slopes 
were all felled ; huts and tents stood along on the slopes 
from the head to the mouth of the valley, and several hun- 
dred men were hard at work. 

For once every man was satisfied, and it was agreed that 
it was the richest place which had been discovered in Cali- 
fornia, But though all were doing well, their finds did 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S BE1R. 


287 


not approach those of the party at the head of the valley. 
The spot on which these were at work was indeed a natural 
trap for gold. At the lower end of the claim the bed rock 
was found at the depth of three feet only ; but it sloped 
rapidly down to the foot of the fall, and here an iron rod 
had been driven down and showed it to he forty feet below 
the surface. 

The bed rock had indeed, in the course of ages, been 
pounded away by the fall of water, and by the boulders 
and rocks brought down in time of flood, and in the deep 
hole the gold had lodged, a comparatively small proportion 
being carried away over the lower lip of the basin. When 
the bed rock was found at the lower end of the claim, they 
set to work to' clear away and wash the whole surface to 
that depth, as far as the foot of the rocks on either side of 
the little amphitheater. 

Frank and two of the men went down to Sacramento 
with horses to bring up pumps, for below the level of the 
lip of the hole it was, of course, full of water. The. stream 
was carried in a shoot beyond this point, and when the 
pumps arrived they were soon set to work. 

Every foot that they descended they found, as they 
expected, the gravel to be richer and richer; and many 
nuggets, some of them weighing upward of a pound, were 
found. 

At the end of each week four of the miners, armed to 
the teeth, carried down the gold and deposited it at the 
bank of Sacramento. An escort was needed, for many 
attacks were made on gold convoys by parties of despera^ 
does; four men would indeed have been an insufficient 
guard, but at the same time other diggers in the valley 
sent down their find, and the escort was always made up 
to eight men from the general body. 

Frank, from the first, generally formed one of the escort; 
he himself was perfectly ready to take his share in the 


288 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


more laborious work of digging, but where Frank went 
Turk went, and Turk formed so valuable a member of 
the escort that the rest of the party begged his master 
always to go with the treasure. Every week had added to 
the weight and power of the animal, and he was now a 
most formidable-looking beast. He was extremely quiet 
and good-tempered at ordinary times, except that he would 
not allow any stranger to touch him; but when at all 
excited, his hair bristled from his neck to his tail, and his 
low, formidable growl gave a warning which few men 
would have been inclined to despise — indeed, of the many 
rough characters in the camp, there was not one who would 
not rather have faced a man with a revolver in his hand 
than have ventured upon a conflict with Turk. 

The dog appeared to know that the escort duty was one 
which demanded especial vigilance. On the road a low 
growl always gave notice of the approach of strangers; and 
at night, when they stopped, and the heavy valises w r ere 
carried from the pack animals into the wayside resting- 
places, Turk always lay down with his head upon them. He 
seemed so thoroughly to understand that this was in his 
special charge, that although at no other time would he 
leave Frank’s side for a moment, he was, when thus on 
guard, content to lie quiet even should Frank take a stroll 
after reaching the hotel. 

This guardianship greatly relieved the cares of the 
escort, as once placed under Turk’s charge they felt no 
further anxiety about the treasure, for it would have been 
as much as any stranger’s life was worth to have entered 
the room where Turk lay on guard. Once, indeed, the 
attempt was made. While the escort were taking their 
meals, a man went round to the window of the room, and, 
opening it, threw a large piece of poisoned meat to Turk. 
The dog placed one paw upon it, but remained, with his 
great head on the treasure, watching the man outside hold- 




CAPTAIN BA YLEf'S HEIR . 


289 


ing another piece in his hand, and speaking in soothing 
tones. The man, seeing that he did not move, began to 
climb in through the window. Suddenly, as if shot from 
a spring, Turk hurled himself from his recumbent position 
upon him. 

The movement was so rapid and unexpected, that before 
the man could spring back from the window Turk had 
seized him by the shoulder. A shriek, followed by a 
heavy fall, brought the party rushing into the room. It 
was empty, but there was the sound of a scuffle outside; 
they ran to the window, but their interference was too 
late. Turk had shifted his hold, and, grasping the man 
by the throat, was shaking him as a terrier would a rat; 
and when, in obedience to Frank’s voice, he loosened his 
hold, life was extinct. Not only was there a terrible 
wound in the throat of the robber, but his neck was broken 
by the shaking. 

This was the only attempt which was ever made upon the 
treasure; for Turk gained such a reputation by the deed, 
that it was questionable whether, had he accompanied the 
pack-mules as their sole escort to Sacramento, the bravest 
stage-robbers in the district would have ventured to inter- 
fere with them. 

After a time the lower valley became worked out, and 
numbers drifted away to other diggings; but it was four 
months before the party at the waterfall completely worked 
out their claims. The value of the ground in the last few 
feet, at the lower end of the hole, was immense; for in 
this, for ages, the gold from above had settled, and for the 
last fortnight the clear-up each day was worth a thousand 
pounds. When the last spadeful had been cleared up, and 
the last consignment sent down to the bank, they made up 
their total, and found that in four months they had taken 
from the hole upward of sixty thousand pounds. 

It had been agreed before beginning that the two women 


captain bay-ley's heiu. 


290 

and the boys were each to have a half-share, and that the 
two women who had looked after the families below were 
to have the same. There were then in all six half-shares, 
and eleven shares, and each share was therefore worth over 
four thousand pounds. There were many instances in 
California in which parties of two or three men had made 
larger sums than this in the same time, but there were few 
in which a company had taken out so large a quantity 
from one hole. 

At the meeting that night the partnership was dissolved, 
it being agreed that they should all go down to Sacramento 
together, and there each receive his share. One or two of 
the party said that they would go down to San Francisco 
for a spree, and then return and try their luck again. 
Four of the western farmers said that they should buy 
farms in the State and settle down there. Abe, and two 
other hunters, said they should return east. 

“And what are you going to do, Frank?” 

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “I don’t want to return to 
Europe, and have no particular object in view. I think 
that I shall let my money remain in the bank for a bit, at 
any rate, and go in for freighting on a large scale. I 
shall buy a couple of dozen mules, and hire some Mexicans 
to drive them. I like the life among these mountains, and 
there is a good thing to be made out of carrying. But I 
have had enough of digging; it’s tremendously hard work, 
and I couldn’t expect to meet with such a slice of luck as 
this again if I worked for fifty years.” 

“Well, Frank, I shall not try to dissuade you, ”Abe said. 
“If I was going on hunting, I should say ‘Come along with 
me to the plains’; but me and my mate is going east, as 
each of us has got some one waiting for us thar, and I 
expect we shall marry and settle down. I will write to you 
at Sacramento when I get fixed, and I needn’t tell you how 
glad the sight of your face will make me if you are ever 
traveling my way.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR . 


291 


A few days afterward the party separated at Sacramento, 
Frank only remaining two days in that town. The wild 
scenes of dissipation and recklessness disgusted him; he 
looked with loathing upon the saloons where gambling 
went on from morning till night, broken only by an occa- 
sional tierce quarrel, followed in most cases by the sharp 
crack of a revolver, or by desperate encounters with bowie 
knives. Bad as things were, however, they were improv- 
ing somewhat, for a vigilance committee had just been 
started, comprising all the prominent citizens of the town. 
Parties of armed men had seized upon some of the most 
notorious desperadoes of the place, and had hung them on 
the lamp-posts, while others had been warned that a like 
fate awaited them if they were found three hours later 
within the limits of the town. 

Similar scenes took place in San Francisco, for the force 
of the law was wholly insufficient to restrain the reckless 
and desperate men who congregated in the towns, and who 
thought no more of taking life than eating a meal. To 
put a stop to the frightful state of things prevailing, the 
more peaceful of the San Francisco citizens had also been 
obliged to organize a vigilance committee to carry out what 
was called Lynch law, a rough and ready method of justice 
subject to grave abuses under other circumstances, but ad- 
mirably suited to such a condition of things as at that 
time prevailed in California. 

For some time Frank worked between Sacramento and 
the diggings. He enjoyed the life, riding in the pure 
mountain air, under the shade of the forests, at the head 
of the team. Sometimes he wondered vaguely how long 
this was to last; if he was always to remain a rover, or 
whether he would ever return to England. Sometimes he 
resolved that he would go home and make an effort to clear 
himself of this stain which rested upon his name; but he 
could see no method whatever of doing so, as he had 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S IlEIll 


292 

nothing but his own unsupported assertion of his innocence 
to adduce against the circumstantial evidence against him, 
and there was no reason why his word should be taken now 
more than it was before. 

In many of the camps life had now become more civi- 
lized. In cases where the bed of gold-bearing gravel was 
large, and where, consequently, work would be continued 
for a long time, wooden towns had sprung up, with hotels, 
stores, drinking and gambling saloons. Work was here 
carried on methodically; water was, in some cases, brought 
many miles in little canals from mountain lakes down to 
the diggings, and operations were carried on on a large 
scale. Companies were being formed for buying up and 
working numbers of claims together. 

The valleys were honeycombed with shafts driven down, 
sometimes through a hundred feet of gravel, to the bed 
rock, as it was found much more profitable working this 
way than in surface-washing. Stage-coaches and teams of 
wagons were running regularly now along well-made roads. 
Frank’s earnings were therefore smaller than they had been 
at first, but they still paid his expenses, and added a few 
pounds each trip to his account at the bank. 

He took shares in many of the companies formed for 
bringing down water from the lakes, and these were soon 
found to be an exceedingly valuable property, paying in 
many cases a return each month equal to the capital. 

The life of a teamster was not without danger; bears in 
considerable numbers were found among the mountains, 
and these, when pressed by hunger, did not hesitate to 
attack passing teams. In times of rain the rivers rose 
rapidly, and the valleys were full of fierce torrents, some- 
times preventing horses from crossing for many hours, and 
being still more dangerous if the rise commenced when the 
track to be followed wound along in the foot of the valley. 
Several times Frank narrowly escaped with his life when 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


293 


thus surprised; but in each case he managed to reach some 
spot where his horses could climb the side before the water 
took them off their feet. 

The greatest danger, however, of the roads, arose from 
the lawless men that frequented them. Coaches were 
frequently stopped and plundered, and even the gold escorts 
were attacked with success. Strong parties of the miners 
sometimes went out in pursuit of the highwaymen, but it 
was very seldom that success attended them, for the 
great forests extended so vast a distance over the hills 
that anything like a thorough search was impossible. 

Frank, however, treated this danger lightly; he never 
carried money with him save what he received on arrival 
at camp for the carriage of his goods, while the flour, bacon 
and other stores which he carried up offered no temptation 
to the robbers. 

One evening, however, having been detained some hours 
before he could cross a river swollen by a thunderstorm, he 
was traveling along the road much later than usual; the 
moon was shining brightly, and as the long team of mules 
descended a hill he meditated camping for the night at its 
foot. 

Suddenly he heard a pistol-shot ahead, followed by five 
or six others. Ordering his men to follow slowly, he put 
spurs to his horse, and, drawing his revolver, galloped on. 
The firing had ceased just as he caught sight of a coach 
standing at the bottom of a hill; three bodies were lying 
in the road, and the passengers were in the act of alighting 
under the pistols of four mounted men who stood beside 
them. Frank rode up at full speed, Turk bounding beside 
him. 

The highwaymen turned, and two pistol-shots were fired 
at the newcomer. The balls whistled close to him, but 
Frank did not answer the fire until he arrived within three 
paces of the nearest highwayman, whom he shot dead ; the 


294 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


other three fired, and Frank felt a sensation as of a hot 
iron crossing his cheek, while his left arm dropped useless 
by his side. Another of the highwaymen fell under his 
next shot; at the same instant Turk, with a tremendous 
hound, leaped at the throat of one of the others who was 
in the act of leveling his pistol. The impetus was so 
tremendous that man and horse rolled in the road, the 
pistol exploding harmlessly in the air. The struggle on 
the ground lasted but a few seconds, and then Turk, hav- 
ing disposed of his adversary, turned to look after a fresh 
foe; but the field was clear, for the remaining robber had, 
on seeing Turk, turned his horse with a cry of alarm, and 
ridden away at full speed. The passengers crowded round 
Frank, thanking him for their rescue. 

“I am glad to have been of use,” Frank said, “and to 
have arrived just in time; and now will one of you help 
me off my horse, for my left arm is broken, I think.” 

The driver of the coach had been shot through the heart 
by the first shot fired by the robbers. There were two 
armed guards, one of whom had been killed, and the other 
wounded, while two of the passengers who had left the 
coach to take part in the defense had also been killed; the 
wounded guard was helped down from the coach. 

“You have done a good night’s work,” he said to Frank; 
“there are nigh ten thousand ounces of gold in the coach. 
No doubt those fellows got wind of the intention of the 
bank people at Yuba to send it down to Sacramento; it 
was kept very dark too, and I don’t believe that one of 
the passengers knew of it. They would have sent more 
than two of us to guard it if they had thought that it had 
been let out; there must have been some one in the secret 
who gave notice beforehand to these chaps. 

“Now, gentlemen, if one of you will take the ribbons we 
will be moving on. I will get up beside him, and I will 
trouble any of you who have got Colts to take your places 



CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HE : 


up behind; there ain’t no chance of Another attack 
to-night, still, we may as well look out. Now,' sir, if you 
will take your place inside we will take you on until we 
get to some place where your arm can be looked to. You 
will hear from the directors of the bank as to this night’s 
work.” 

Frank’s team had now arrived on the spot, and he 
directed the men to complete their journey and deliver 
their stores, and then to go down to the stables where they 
put up at Sacramento and there to wait his arrival. 

Frank was left behind at the next town, his fellow- 
passengers overwhelming him with thanks, many having 
considerable amounts of gold concealed about them, the 
result, in some cases, of months’ work at the diggings. 

One of them proposed that each man should contribute 
one-fourth of the gold he carried to reward their rescuer, 
a proposition which was at once accepted. Frank, how- 
ever, assured them that although leading a team of mules 
he was well off, and in no need whatever of their kind 
offer. 

Seeing that he was in earnest, his fellow-passengers again 
thanked him cordially, and took their places in the coach. 
They were not to be balked in their gratitude, and three 
days later a very handsome horse, with saddle and holsters 
with a brace of Colt’s revolvers, arrived up from Sacra- 
mento for Frank, with the best wishes of the passengers in 
the coach. On the same day a letter arrived saying that 
at a meeting of the directors of the bank it had been 
resolved that, as he had saved them from a loss of fifty 
thousand pounds by his gallantry, a sum of two thousand 
pounds should be placed to his credit at the bank in token 
of their appreciation of the great service he had rendered 
them. 


296 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY *8 HEIR. 


CHAPTER XX. 

A MESSAGE FROM ABROAD. 

“I like this, grandfather. I think I like it better than 
anything I have seen. In the sunlight the cathedral is too 
dazzling and white, and the eye does not seem to find any 
rest; but in the moonlight it is perfectly lovely. And 
then the music of that Austrian band is just right from 
here; it is not too loud, and yet we can hear every note. 
Somehow, I always like better not to see the players, but 
just to have the benefit of the music as we do now, and to 
sit taking it in, and looking at that glorious cathedral, all 
silver and black, in the moonlight. It is glorious!” Harry 
murmured, “I could not have believed there was anything 
so lovely.” 

“Yes, yes,” Captain Bayley said absently, “the ices are 
good.” 

“ I am not talking of the ices, grandfather, though no 
doubt they are good. I am talking about the cathedral.” 

“Are you, my boy?” Captain Bayley said, rousing him- 
self. “Yes, there are cathedrals which beat Milan when 
seen in broad daylight, but in the moonlight there is no 
building in the world to compare with it, unless it be the 
Taj Mahal at Agra. Of course they differ wholly and 
entirely in style, and no comparison can be made between 
them; the only resemblance is that both are built of white 
marble; but of the two, I own that I prefer the Taj.” 

“I am afraid I shall never see that,” Alice Hardy said, 
“but I am quite content with Milan; I could stop here for 
a month,” 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


297 


“A month, my dear!” Captain Bayley exclaimed, in 
consternation, “ three days will be ample. You know we 
agreed to stop here till Friday, and then to go on to Como.” 

"Well, perhaps we will let you go on Friday, hut we 
shall have to dawdle about the lakes for some time. We 
can’t rush through them as we have been rushing through 
all these grand old Italian towns. We must have a long 
rest there, you know.” 

“Yes, I suppose so,” the old officer said reluctantly; 
“but I like to be on the move.” 

Captain Bayley had, indeed, somewhat tried his two 
young companions by his eagerness to be ever on the move. 
They had now been nearly two years absent from England; 
they had visited all the principal towns of Germany and 
Austria, had gone down the Danube and stopped at Con- 
stantinople, had spent a fortnight in the Holy Land, and 
had then gone to Egypt and ascended the Nile as far as the 
First Cataract, then they had taken steamer to Naples, 
and thence made their way up through Italy to Milan, and 
now were about to cross over into Switzerland, and were, 
after spending a month there, to go on to Paris, and 
thence home. 

The highest surgical advice, and the most skillful appli- 
ances, aided by the benefit he had derived from the Ger- 
man baths, had done much for Harry, and he had for 
months passed many hours a day in the hands of a skillful 
shampooer, who traveled with him as valet. He had, to a 
great extent, recovered the use of his legs, and now walked 
with the assistance of two sticks, and Hiere was every hope 
that in time he would be able to dispense with these aids, 
although he would always walk somewhat stiffly. Captain 
Bayley was delighted at this improvement in his grandson, 
and would have been perfectly happy had it not been for 
the continual worry caused him by the failure of his adver- 
tisements to elicit any news whatever of Frank. 


298 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


It was this uncertainty that caused his restlessness, and 
he was forever pressing forward to the next town to which 
he had directed letters to be sent, constantly suffering dis- 
appointments when he found the usual announcement from 
his solicitor that no news had been obtained of his missing 
nephew. 

Alice and Harry shared his anxiety; but their pleasure 
in the new scenes they were visiting prevented their being 
so entirely engrossed in the subject as he was; and although 
scarcely a day passed without some talk as to Frank’s 
whereabouts, and the probability of his discovery, they 
were able to put the subject aside and to enter with full 
zest into the scenes they were visiting. But in Captain 
Bayley’s mind the question was always uppermost; sin- 
cerely attached as he had always been to Frank, the 
thought that his favorite might have suffered a cruel and 
dastardly wrong, and might now be slaving for his living 
in some unknown part of the world, worried and troubled 
him incessantly, and he felt that, happy as he was at the 
discovery of his grandson, he could never be contented and 
tranquil until this matter was cleared up. Besides, in his 
will Fred Barkley was still standing as heir to one-third of 
his fortune, and the thought that he might die before the 
mystery was cleared up, and that possibly this property 
might go to the man he suspected of so foul a crime, was 
absolutely intolerable to the old officer. He had, indeed, 
been engaged in a correspondence with his lawyer, Mr. 
Griffith, in reference to his will, which he wanted worded 
so that Fred Barkley should not take the fortune left him 
until the question of the theft of the ten pounds should be 
cleared up. Mr. Griffith pointed out that it was scarcely 
possible to frame a will in such a way. 

“Had your nephew been publicly accused of the crime, 
doubtless a clause might be framed by which the money 
would remain in the hands of trustees until he had cleared 


CAPTAIN BAT LET'S HEIR. 


299 


himself to their satisfaction ; but in this case there is no 
shadow of suspicion against him. Another person has, in 
the eyes of those who know the circumstances of the affair, 
been adjudged guilty. No one has breathed a word against 
the honor of your nephew; and therefore to say that he 
shall not touch the legacy until his honor is cleared would 
he to take a most extraordinary, and, I think, unprece- 
dented course. In fact I don’t see how it could be done.” 

Captain Bayley had replied hotly that it must be done, 
and, owing to his frequent changes of address, and the 
time occupied in the letters passing to and fro, the corre- 
spondence had already lasted for some months. What 
enraged Captain Bayley most of all was that Mr. Griffith 
would not admit that any doubt whatever existed as to 
Frank Norris’ guilt, nor that there was a shadow of rea- 
sonable suspicion against his cousin; and each time the 
evidence was marshaled up, Captain Bayley had to 
acknowledge to himself that the lawyer’s arguments were 
unanswerable, and that the only grounds that he himself 
had for his doubts were his affection for Frank, and the 
fixed, passionate belief of Alice Hardy in his innocence. 
That day Captain Bayley was exceptionally out of temper 
and irascible, for he had that morning received a letter 
from Mr. Griffith positively declining to draw up a clause 
for insertion in the will of the nature he desired, and say- 
ing that if Captain Bayley insisted upon its insertion, 
much as he should regret it after so long a connection had 
existed between them, he should prefer that his client 
should place himself in other hands. 

“ I trust,” he said, “ that this will cause no interruption in 
the personal friendship which has for years existed between 
us, but I would risk even that rather than draft a clause 
which I consider would be in the highest degree unjust, 
and which, I tell you fairly, would, I believe, be upset in 
any court of law. Nothing would, in my opinion, be more 


300 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY' S HEIR. 


unfair, I may say more monstrous, than that a hand should 
be stretched from the grave to strike a blow at the honor 
of a young man of stainless reputation.” 

Captain Bayley at all times disliked opposition; he dis- 
liked it especially when, as in the present instance, he felt 
that he was in the wrong. 

When they returned to their hotel the waiter informed 
Alice that a gentleman had called twice, while they were 
out, to see her. He had not left a card, saying that Miss 
Hardy would not know his name, but that he had a mes- 
sage to give her, and that he would not occupy her time 
more than a few minutes if she would be good enough to 
see him. 

“It sounds quite mysterious,” Alice said, smiling to her 
uncle. 

“Was it a young gentleman or an old?” she asked the 
w r aiter in French. 

“An elderly gentleman, signora.” 

“Some elderly millionaire, Alice,” Captain Bayley 
growled sarcastically, as they ascended the stairs, “who 
has seen you in the streets, and wishes to lay himself and 
his fortune at your feet.” 

“That must be it,” Alice laughed. “But perhaps he 
has brought me a message from some of the many ladies 
we have met in our travels. I suppose I had better see 
him if he comes again.” 

“I suppose so,” Captain Bayley said. “He is not likely 
to eat you, and as my room opens off the sitting-room, you 
have only to scream and I can come in to your rescue.” 

“Very well, I will scream, uncle, if necessary. But do 
you think he wants to see me alone?” 

“As he has only asked for you, and no one else, I sup 
pose he does. At any rate I have no lively curiosity 
as to his visit, and I don’t suppose Harry has either. Most 
likely it’s some man who wants to sell you jewelry or cam- 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


301 


eos, or to ask you for a subscription for the chaplain, or to 
heg of you on some pretext or other; they are always at it. 
He saw your name on the hotel list standing without any 
male protector of the same name. No doubt he thinks 
you are an elderly spinster with money.” 

“I expect it’s something of that sort, Alice,” Harry 
laughed. 

But Alice insisted that she was convinced that the mys- 
terious stranger had something important to communicate 
to her. As she was taking her things otf there was a knock 
at the door, and the waiter said: 

“The gentleman who before called is below.” 

“Show him up into our sitting-room,” she said, and at 
once went in to receive him. “He’s just coming up, 
uncle,” she said, tapping at Captain Bayley’s door. He 
opened it a few inches. 

“I have got my pistol handy, Alice, in case you scream.” 

Alice laughed, and as she turned round there was a 
knock at the door. The waiter announced Monsieur 
Adams, and an elderly gentleman entered. 

“You must be surprised at the intrusion of a stranger 
at this hour of the evening, Miss Hardy; hut my excuse 
must be that I have for nearly two months been following 
your footsteps, and I was afraid that if I put off calling 
upon you until the morning I might find that you had 
gone.” 

“ Following me for two months !” Alice repeated in great 
surprise. “I do not understand, sir.” 

“Naturally, Miss Hardy, the statement appears a strange 
one to you ; hut the fact is I made a promise to deliver a 
message to you. I found upon reaching England that you 
had left; I obtained your address at Cairo, and went there 
only to find you had left a fortnight before my arrival; 
then I followed you to Naples, and was a week too late. 
At Rome I missed you by a day, and as I could not learn 


302 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


there, at your hotel, where you were going next, beyond 
the fact that you had gone North, I have been hunting 
for you ever since.” 

“But, sir,” Alice said, more and more surprised, “what 
message could possibly be of sufficient importance for you 
to undertake so long a journey to deliver it?” 

“I did not know how long you might be before you 
returned to England, Miss Hardy, and as I knew how 
anxiously the answer to my message would be expected, I 
preferred to follow you, in order that there might be no 
more delay than necessary.” 

Suddenly a thought flashed across Alice Hardy’s brain. 
She advanced a step nearer to her visitor, and exclaimed: 

“Do you come from my cousin Frank?” 

“You have guessed rightly. I met him abroad; lam 
not at liberty at present to say where. He rendered me 
one of the greatest services one man can render to another 
— he saved my life, and did much more; but upon that it 
is not now necessary to enter.” 

“But the message, sir,” Alice interrupted, “you cannot 
know how we have been longing for a word from him all 
this time.” 

“ I do not know yet, Miss Hardy, whether I have any 
message to deliver; it depends upon what you say in answer 
to what I tell you. I think I can give you his very words 
as we sat together the night before I left for England; ‘I 
have a little cousin, a girl, she was like my sister; I think, 
I hope, that in spite of everything she may still have be- 
lieved me innocent. Will you see her, and tell her you 
have seen me? Say no more until you see by her manner 
whether she believes me to be a rascal or not.’ ” 

“No, no,” Alice broke in, with a cry, “not for one mo- 
ment; surely Frank never doubted me. Never for a single 
instant did I believe one word against him.” 

“Is anything the matter, my dear?” Captain Bayley 


Captain rayleY's heir. 


303 


asked, opening his door, for the sound of her raised voice 
had reached him. 

“No, uncle,” she cried, hurrying to him, “it is a mes- 
sage from Frank. Go away a minute, or— No,” and she 
turned again to Mr. Adams, “surely my uncle can hear 
too, he is as interested as I am.” 

“My message was to you alone, Miss Hardy,” Mr. Adams 
said gravely; “I must deliver it as it was delivered to me. 
It will be for you to decide whether, after hearing it, you 
think it right to observe the injunction it contains for your 
absolute silence.” 

“At least tell me, sir,” Captain Bayley exclaimed, as 
much agitated as Alice, “whether he is alive and well.” 

“He is alive and well, sir— at least he was when I saw 
him last, now nearly four months ago.” 

“Thank God for that, at least,” Captain Bayley said 
fervently. “Do not be long, Alice; you know what I 
shall be feeling.” He went back into his room again, and 
closed the door, and Mr. Adams continued : 

“‘If she thinks me a rascal, give her no clew to the part 
of the world where you have come across me, simply say 
that I wished her to know that I am alive and well . 5 
There, Miss Hardy, my message would have ended had 
you not declared your faith in his innocence; I can now 
go on: ‘If you see that she still, in spite of everything, 
believes that I am innocent, then tell her that I affirm on 
my honor and word that I am so’ — Alice gave a cry of joy 
— ‘though I see no way of proving it. Tell her that I do 
not wish her to tell my uncle that she has heard of me; 
that I do not wish her to say one word to him, for, much 
as I value his affection, I would not for the world seem to 
be trying to gain the place he thinks I have forfeited, until 
I can appear before him as a rich man whom nothing could 
induce to touch one penny of his money, and who values 
only his good-will and esteem.’ 


304 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR . 


“ That is all the message, Miss Hardy. But now that I 
see you have never believed him guilty, I am at liberty to 
tell you that we met in California, and to give you an- ad- 
dress to which you can write at Sacramento, and I can tell 
you the story of our acquaintance; but as the story is a 
long one, and it is now late, I will, with your permission, 
call in the morning again.” 

Tears were streaming down the girl’s face as she lifted 
her head. 

“Thank you, sir! oh, thank you so much! You cannot 
tell how happy your message has made me — how happy it 
will make us all, for I am sure that Frank will not blame 
me for breaking his injunction. He cannot tell the cir- 
cumstances; he does not know that my uncle has fretted 
as much as myself. He evidently thinks that he believes 
him guilty, though why he should do so I don’t know, for 
at first he was just as much convinced as I was of Frank’s 
innocence, and it was only Frank’s silence and his going 
away without saying one word in defense of himself that 
made him doubt him. Would you mind sitting here for a 
minute or two while I go in to him? We want to hear so 
much, if you are not in a hurry.” 

“I am in no hurry,” Mr. Adams said, smiling. “After 
traveling for two months to deliver a message, one would 
not mind sitting up for a few hours to deliver it thoroughly; 
and let me tell you that if my message has made you 
happy, your reception of it has given me almost equal sat- 
isfaction. I should have been grieved beyond expression 
to have had to write to him that you doubted him, for my 
dear friend said, ‘If your commission fails, I shall lose my 
last pleasant thought of home.’ ” 

“Poor Frank!” Alice murmured, as she turned to go to 
her uncle’s room, “how could he have ever doubted us?” 

“Uncle,” she said, as she entered, “I feel quite justified 
in telling you Frank’s message to me. Why it was sent 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


305 


to me instead of to you I do not know, except that it seems 
as if he thought that I might believe him innocent, while 
somehow he had an idea that you thought he was guilty.” 

“Does he say he is innocent, Alice?” Captain Bayley 
broke in. 

“He does, uncle; he declares on his honor and word 
that he is innocent.” 

“Thank God!” the old officer said, dropping into a chair 
and covering his face with his hands. For a minute he 
sat silent, but Alice could see how deeply he was affected. 

“Don’t say any more, my dear,” he said, in a low, 
shaken voice. “I have heard quite enough; it was only 
Frank’s assurance that I have been wanting all this time. 
I am content now. Thank God that this burden is lifted 
off one’s mind. Go in and tell Harry; I should like to be 
alone for a few minutes.” 

“Yes, uncle; and Frank’s friend is in the next room, 
and will tell us all about him when you are ready to hear 
it.” 

Harry was greatly delighted at the news, and after a few 
minutes Alice returned with him to the sitting-room. She 
knocked at her uncle’s door, and called out, “We are here, 
uncle, when you are ready to come in.” In another min- 
ute Captain Bayley entered. He went up to Mr. Adams. 

“You have brought me the best news I have ever heard, 
sir; you cannot tell what a weight you have lifted from 
my shoulders, and how I feel indebted to you.” 

“Yes, uncle, and do you know that Mr. Adams has been 
traveling nearly two months to deliver the message, know- 
ing how anxious Frank will be to hear how it was received. 
He went to Egypt after us, and finding we had left has 
been following us ever since.” 

“God bless you, sir!” Captain Bayley said, seizing Mr. 
Adams’ hand and shaking it violently, “you are a friend 
indeed. Now in the first place, please tell me the message 


306 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY 1 8 HEIR . 


you have given my niece, for so far I have only heard that 
Frank declared that he is innocent; that was quite enough 
for me at first. I want to know why I was to be kept in 
the dark.” 

“The message will explain that,” Mr. Adams replied, 
and he again repeated the message he had given Alice. 

“Yes, that explains it,” Captain Bayley said, when he 
had finished; “that’s just like the boy of old. I like him 
for that. Bat why on earth did he not say he was inno- 
cent at first?” 

“That I cannot tell you; I know no more of the past 
than the message I have given you, except he said that he 
had been wrongfully suspected of committing a crime, and 
that, although he was innocent, the case appeared abso- 
lutely conclusive against him, and that he saw no chance 
whatever of his being cleared, save by the confession of 
the person who had committed the offense.” 

“But why on earth didn’t he say he was innocent?” 
Captain Bayley repeated, with something of his old irrita- 
tion. “What possessed him to run away as if he were 
guilty without making one protest to us that he was 
innocent?” 

“I cannot tell you, sir. As I said, I know nothing 
whatever of the circumstance; I do not even know the 
nature of the accusation against him. I only know, from 
my knowledge of his character, that he is a noble and gen- 
erous young man, and that he never could have been guilty 
of any dishonorable action.” 

“Nobody would ever have thought he would,” Captain 
Bayley said sharply, “unless he had as much as said so 
himself by running away when this ridiculous accusation 
was brought forward. I should as soon have doubted my 
own existence as supposed he had stolen a ten-pound note 
had he not run away instead of facing it like a man: Un- 
til he bolted without sending me a word of denial or expla- 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 HEIR. 


30 ? 


nation, I would have knocked any man down who had said 
he believed him guilty. The evidence had no more weight 
in my mind than the whistling of the wind; my doubts 
are of his own creation. Thank God they are at an end 
now that he has declared he is innocent. He has behaved 
like a fool, but there are so many fools about that there is 
nothing out of the way in that. Still it was one of the 
follies I should not have expected of Frank. That he 
should get into a foolish scrape from thoughtlessness, or 
high spirits, *or devilry, or that sort of thing, I could imag- 
ine; but I am astonished that he should have committed 
an act of folly due to cowardice.” 

“I won’t hear you, uncle, any more,” Alice exclaimed; 
“I know that you don’t mean anything you say, and that 
you are one of the happiest men in the world this evening; 
but of course Mr. Adams does not know you as we do, and 
does not understand that all this means that you are so 
relieved from the anxiety that you have felt for the last 
two years that you are obliged to give vent to your feelings 
somehow. Please, Mr. Adams, don’t regard what my 
uncle says in the slightest, but tell us all about Frank. 
As to his going away, we know nothing about his motives, 
or why he went, or anything else, and I am quite sure he 
will be able to explain it when we see him; as to running 
away from cowardice, uncle knows as well as we do that 
the idea is simply ridiculous. So please go on, and if 
uncle interrupts we will go down to another sitting-room 
and he shall hear nothing about it.” 

Mr. Adams then told the story of his acquaintance with 
Frank; how, when all seemed dark, when he was lying 
prostrate with fever brought on by overexertion and insuf- 
ficient food, Frank had come to his son and had insisted 
on helping him; how he had helped to nurse him, and 
how, finally, Frank and his companions had worked the 
claim and realized a fortune for him. He told how popu- 


308 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


lar Frank was among his companions, how ready he was to 
do a kindly action to any one needing it, and finally re- 
peated the conversation they had had together the last 
evening, and Frank’s determination not to return to Eng- 
land until he had gained such a fortune that he could not 
be suspected of desiring to gain anything but his uncle’s 
esteem when he presented himself before him and declared 
he was innocent. 

“ The young scamp,” Captain Bayley growled, “ thinking 
all the time of his own feelings and not of mine. It’s 
nothing to him that I may be fretting myself into my 
grave in the belief of his guilt; nothing that I may be 
dead years and years before he comes home with this pre- 
cious fortune he relies on making. Oh, no! we are all to 
wait another twenty years in order that this jackanapes 
may not be suspected of being mercenary; three dozen at 
the triangles would do him a world of good, and if he were 
here I would ” 

“You wouldn’t do anything but shake his hand, and 
shout ‘Frank, my boy, I am glad to see you back again,’ 
so it’s no use pretending that you would,” Alice inter- 
rupted. “And now, Mr. Adams, it’s past twelve, and I 
feel ashamed that we should have kept you so long; but I 
know you don’t mind, and you have made us all very 
happy. You will come again in the morning, will you 
not? There is so much to ask about, and we have not yet 
even begun to tell you how deeply we are all obliged to you 
for your goodness in hurrying away from England directly 
you got home, and in spending weeks and weeks wandering 
about after us.” 

“I shall be glad to call again in the morning, Miss 
Hardy, but I shall start for England in the evening ; I am 
anxious to be back now that my mission is fulfilled. My 
son is to be married in ten days’ time, and he would like 
me to be present, although he said in his last letter that 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY \S HEIR. 


309 


he quite agreed that the first thing of all was to find you 
and deliver the message, whether I got home or not. As 
I have several matters to arrange before his marriage, 
presents to get, or one thing or other, I shall go straight 
through.” 

“That is right,” Captain Bayley said, “we will travel 
together, my dear sir; for of course we shall go straight 
back to England now. We have been dawdling about in 
this wretched country long enough. Besides, everything 
has to be arranged, and we have got to get at the bottom of 
this matter; so if you have no objection, we will travel 
home together. If the young people here want to dawdle 
about any longer they can do so; I dare say they can look 
after themselves, or if not, I can make an arrangement with 
some old lady or other to act as Alice’s chaperon.” 

“You silly old man,” Alice said, kissing him, “as if we 
were not just as anxious to get home and to get to the 
bottom of the thing as you are.” 

So the next afternoon the party started in the diligence 
which was to take them over the St. Gothard to Lucerne. 

Alice had by this time heard, somewhat to the confusion 
of her ideas, that Frank was no longer the lad she had 
always depicted him, but a tall, powerful young man, 
rough and tanned by exposure, and a fair match in strength 
for the wildest character in the mining camp. 

By the time they reached London Mr. Adams and Cap- 
tain Bayley had become fast friends, and the first thing 
the next morning Captain Bayley drove with Alice to 
Bond street and purchased the handsomest gold watch and 
chain he could find as a wedding-present for young Adams, 
and a bracelet as handsome for Alice to send to the bride; 
then he sent Alice home in the carriage and proceeded to 
his laywer’s. He returned home in the worst of tempers. 
Mr. Griffith had refused to admit that the receipt of 
Frank’s message had in any way changed the position. 


310 


CAP TAW BA Y LET'S HEIR. 


“I understood all along, Captain Bayley, that youi* 
nephew, when accused by his master, had denied the theft; 
the mere fact that he now, three years later, repeats the 
denial to you, does not, so far as I can see, alter the situa- 
tion in the slightest. He says that he’s not in a position 
to disprove any of the circumstances alleged against him. 
Of course you are at liberty to believe him now, just as 
you believed him at first, and as, on mature consideration, 
you disbelieved him afterward; but that is a matter quite 
of individual opinion. You have announced to Mr. 
Barkley that you intend to leave him a third of your for- 
tune, and it would be in the highest degree unjust to 
make any alteration now, without a shadow of reason for 
doing so. Personally, no doubt, it is a satisfaction to you 
to have recovered your belief in Frank’s innocence, but 
that ought not to interfere in any way with the arrange- 
ments that you have made. My own belief is, as I have 
told you, that, pressed for money, and afraid of expulsion 
were his escapade of going out at night discovered, Frank 
yielded to a momentary temptation — a grievous fault, but 
not an irreparable one— one, at any rate, for which he has 
been severely punished, and for which he may well be for- 
given. So far I am thoroughly with you, but I cannot 
and will not follow you in what I consider your absolutely 
unfounded idea that he is innocent, and that his cousin — 
against whom there is not a vestige of evidence, while the 
proof the other way is overwhelming — is the real offender.” 

Whereupon Captain Bayley had returned home in a state 
of fury. 

“But, after all, uncle,” Alice said, after listening for 
some time to his outburst against lawyers in general, and 
Mr. Griffith in particular, “it really is reasonable what Mr. 
Griffith says. You and I and Harry, who know Frank so 
well, are quite sure that he is innocent; but other people 
who don’t know him in the same way might naturally take 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


311 


the other view, for, as Mr. Griffith says, the proofs were 
strong against him, and there was nothing whatever to 
connect Fred Barkley with the crime. I have been talk- 
ing it over with Harry since I came hack, and he agrees 
with me that we must, as you say, get to the bottom of 
the whole affair before we go any further.” 

“Well, isn’t that what we have been trying to do all 
along?” Captain Bayley exclaimed angrily. “How are we 
to get to the bottom of it? If you will tell me that I will 
grant that you have more sense in your head than I have 
ever given you credit for.” 

“My idea, grandfather, is this,” Harry said. “We have 
not yet heard Frank’s side of the story. I am convinced 
that if we heard that we should get some new light upon 
it; and my proposal is that you and I shall at once start 
for California and see Frank, and hear all about it. It 
seems to me that he has been silent because he has some 
mistaken idea that you believe in his guilt, and when you 
assure him that you have an absolute faith in his innocence 
he will go into the whole matter, and in that case we shall 
probably find some clew which we can follow up and get 
at the truth.” 

“The very thing, Harry,” the captain exclaimed impet- 
uously, “we will start by the first ship, you and I, and find 
this troublesome young rascal, and have it out with him.” 

“And I shall go too, of course, uncle,” Alice Hardy ex- 
claimed; “I am not going to be left behind by myself.” 

“Impossible, Alice! you don’t know what the country 
is. You could not go wandering about up in the moun- 
tains, looking for him through all sorts of mining camps, 
with no decent place for a woman to sleep.” 

“No, uncle; but I could stay at San Francisco till you 
came back with him; there must be some sort of people 
there you could leave me with. I am sure you would not 
be so unkind as to leave me in Eugland in a state of anxi- 


312 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY’S HEIR . 


ety all these months. Yon know I enjoy the sea, and you 
will want somebody to look after you during the voyage, 
and to see that you don’t get into scrapes with that dread- 
ful temper of yours. Besides, you must have some one to 
scold; you could not get on without it, and you don’t 
scold Harry half so vigorously as you do me.” 

And so at last it was settled, and a week later Captain 
Bayley, his grandson, and Alice Hardy, sailed for Panama. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


313 


CHAPTER XXL 

HAPPY MEETINGS. 

Frank was in splendid health, and his bones set rapidly. 
A fortnight after the encounter with the brigands he rode 
down to the camp on the Yuba with his arm in a sling. 
His attack single-handed upon the four stage-robbers had 
rendered him quite a noted character, and he was warmly 
greeted upon his arrival. As soon as he had got to the 
wooden shanty dignified by the name of the “hotel,” a 
deputation waited upon him. 

“We have come,” the leader of the party said, “to con- 
gratulate you. in the name of the hull of this mining camp 
on having pretty well cleared out that gang of stage-rob- 
bers. The safety of the roads air a matter of great impor- 
tance to this camp, as well as to all the other camps in the 
state, seeing that we air obliged to pay a heavy rate of in- 
surance on our gold being carried down, and have the risk 
of losing it all if we takes it down ourselves; therefore it 
air the opinion of this community that you have done them 
a considerable sarvice, and we are obliged to you.” 

The four members of the deputation then shook Frank 
solemnly by the hand. 

“I can only say I am much obliged to you,” Frank said, 
“and I only regret that one of the four got oif safe. How- 
ever, they had a lesson, and I hope the roads will be safer 
in future.” 

“Now,” the spokesman of the deputation said, “let’s 
liquor. ” 

Five glasses were poured out by the bartender, and 


314 


CAPTAIN BA 7 LEY’S HEIR. 


drunk off solemnly; this was considered to bring the cere- 
mony to a close. 

In the evening Frank was sitting around a lire with 
some of his acquaintances, when two persons were seen 
approaching. 

“Can you tell me,” one of them said, when he got up to 
the group, “whether Frank Norris is in the camp, and if 
so, where I can find him-?” 

Frank sprang to his feet with a cry of astonishment. 

“Uncle,” he exclaimed, “is it you, or am I dreaming?” 

“My dear boy,” Captain Bayley exclaimed, as he grasped 
Frank’s hand, “thank God we have found you! We have 
been advertising and looking for you ever since you left, 
nearly three years ago.” 

For a minute or two they stood grasping each other’s 
hand, their feelings being too full for further speech. 

“Sit you down right here, Norris,” one of the miners 
said, rising, “no doubt you will like a talk together, and 
we will leave you to yourselves.” 

The other miners rose, and with the real courtesy and 
kindness which lurked under the rough nature of the 
diggers, all left the spot. Captain Bayley was the first to 
speak. 

“But here is some one else wants to shake your hand, 
Frank, an old friend too.” 

The fire was not burning very brightly, and although 
Frank seemed to know the young fellow who stood leaning 
lightly on two sticks, he could not recall where he had 
seen him before. 

“Don’t you remember me, Frank,” he said, “the lad 
whom you took so much trouble with over his Homer?” 

“Harry Holl,” Frank said in astonishment. 

“It was as Harry Holl that you knew him, but we have 
since found out that he is my grandson, the son of my 
daughter Ella,” Captain Bayley explained. 


CAPTAIN BATLEY’8 HEIR. 


315 


“Then you are my cousin,” Frank said, advancing and 
shaking Harry’s hand; “but how on earth have you and 
uncle come out here?” 

“ Let us sit down by the fire, Frank, for the evening is 
chilly, and then I will tell you all about it. But first, how 
about that enormous brute of a dog, who doesn’t seem to 
have made up his mind whether the proper thing is not to 
devour us at once.” 

“Come, Turk, good dog, these are friends of mine.” 

Finding that the intentions of the newcomers were 
amicable, of which at first he had entertained some 
doubts, Turk threw himself down by the side of his master. 

“First of all, uncle,” Frank said, as he sat down, “has 
that affair been cleared up?” 

“Well, not exactly cleared up, Frank, but we have our 
suspicions. Harry and I never for a moment thought it 
was you — that is not till you ran away instead of facing it 
out. I don’t want to scold you now, but that was a foolish 
business.” 

“Then if you thought me innocent, uncle, why did you 
not answer my letter? I should never have dreamed of run- 
ning away if I had not been heartbroken at the thought 
that you believed me guilty.” 

“Letter!” Captain Bayley repeated in astonishment, 
“what letter? That was just the thing, if you had w r ritten 
me only one line to say you were innocent I should never 
have doubted you for a moment, and even your running 
away would have made no difference to me.” 

“But I did write, uncle; I wrote to you the very first 
thing, telling you that I was innocent, although apearances 
were all against me, and saying that I could bear anything 
if I knew that you believed in me, and I begged you to 
send me just one line by hand. I waited all day for the 
answer, and all the evening, and when night came and no 
letter I felt that you believed me guilty; I became des- 


316 


CAPTAIN BA YLET *S HEIR. 


perate, and when Fred advised me to bolt, and offered me 
the money to take me away, I thought I might as well 
go at once as go after the disgrace of being publicly 
expelled before the whole school.” 

“But I never got the letter,” Captain Bayley said, 
“never got a line from you, and it was that which shook 
my faith.” 

“I gave the letter to Fred Barkley to post, half an hour 
after I came down from school, that is before eleven o’clock, 
and he told me he posted it at once.” 

“I am afraid,” Captain Bayley said sternly, “that Fred 
Barkley is a vile young scoundrel; we have had our sus- 
picions of him, Harry and I, and this seems to confirm 
them. I believe that villain is at the bottom of the whole 
affair. Have you ever suspected him, Frank?” 

“Such an idea has flitted across my mind, uncle, but I 
have never allowed it to rest there; it was too shocking to 
believe.” 

“I am afraid it must be believed,” Captain Bayley said. 
“It was Harry who first pointed it out to me that, looking 
at the whole case, the matter really lay between him and 
you, and that it was just as probable that he took the note 
and sent it to you as that you should have taken it and 
sent it to yourself. Harry urged indeed that Fred had far 
greater motives for doing so than you; for whereas you had 
only to get out of a stupid scrape, he would be playing for 
the money which I was to leave, which was a heavy stake. 
On the other hand, he admitted that the crime of stealing 
the note for the purpose of ruining you would be infinitely 
greater than the taking of money in your case. 

“I have nearly worried myself into a lunatic asylum over 
the matter. I have been away from England for upward 
of a year— partly for the sake of Harry here, who has got 
rid of his box long ago, and now gets along very fairly on 
Sticks, partly to avoid seeing Fred, for as long as this thing 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEIR. 


317 


■was unsettled, it was impossible that I could give him my 
hand. 

“My heart has all along been with you, my boy, for you 
know I loved you as a son; hut your silence and your run- 
ning away were ugly weights in the scale against you. 
Now that I find that that villain suppressed your letter — 
for he must have done so, else I should have got it — and 
that it was he who urged you to fly to get you out of the 
way, I have no longer a shadow of doubt in my mind. I 
must tell you that Harry here never doubted you from the 
first; and as for Alice, she became a veritable little fury 
when the posssibility of your guilt was suggested. We 
have had some rare battles and rows over that and her 
absolute refusal to speak to Fred, who from the first she 
insisted was at the bottom of it, though hoW she arrived at 
that conclusion, except by instinct, is more than I can tell. 
Her joy when Harry here was found, and of course took 
the position I had intended for you, and her delight in 
Fred’s discomfiture, were, as I told her several times, abso- 
lutely indecent. Not that she minded a farthing; she is 
the most insubordinate young person I ever came across. 
You will hardly know her again, Frank, she is growing 
fast into a young woman, and a very pretty one too.” 

‘‘But how did you find me, uncle? Was it from Mr. 
Adams that you heard where I was?” 

“ Well, Frank, we advertised for you, for over two years, 
in the American and Colonial papers, and at last began 
almost to despair. 

“About two months ago, when we were in Milan — for 
we have been wandering about Europe for the last eight or 
nine months — your friend Adams found us out; the good 
fellow had been hunting for us for two months.” 

“Ah! that explains why I have not heard from him,” 
Frank interrupted. “I have been looking for a letter for 
the last two months,, and had begun to conclude that as lie 


318 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


had nothing pleasant to tell me he had not written, and 
that I should never hear now.” 

“Then you thought like a young fool,” Captain Bayley 
said angrily. “Well, as soon as Adams had given your 
message to Alice — and why you should have supposed that 
Alice should have believed in your innocence any more 
than me, except that women never will believe what they 
don’t want to believe, I don’t know — well, of course, she 
told us about it at once, and we came back to England and 
talked it over, and settled that the best thing was for us 
all to come out and see you.” 

“All!” Frank repeated in surprise. 

“Yes, all; the headstrong young woman would not be 
left behind, and she is at Sacramento now, that is if she 
hasn’t been shot by some of these red-shirted miners, or 
come to her end some other way. We stayed two days at 
San Francisco. I have wandered about a good deal, but 
I thought before I saw Sacramento and these places, that 
city was the residence of the roughest and most dangerous 
set of rascals I ever met. 

“We traveled by coach across the plains, and on going 
to the bank at Sacramento found that you had been just 
shooting some highwaymen, and had got your arm broken 
by a bullet. So we put Alice in charge of the landlady of 
the hotel, and dared her to stir out of the room till we got 
back; we came on to the place where they said you were 
stopping, but found that you had come on here this morn- 
ing. So we took our places in the coach again, and here 
we are; and the sooner we get away from here the better, 
so I hope you will be ready to start early in the morning.” 

“But, my dear uncle,” Frank began. 

“Don’t give me any of your buts, sir,” Captain Bayley 
said peremptorily. “You have been hiding too long, now 
you must go back and take your place again.” 

“But I can’t clear myself of this affair.” 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


319 


“Don’t tell me, sir,” the old officer said angrily, “you 
have cleared yourself to me, and I will take good care that 
the truth is known. As for that rascal Fred, I deserve all 
the trouble that I have gone through for being such an old 
fool as to let him take me in. I want to get back as 
quickly as possible to make my will again. Ever since 
Harry put the idea into my mind I have been fretting 
about the one I had made leaving Fred a third of my 
property. I thought if anything happened to me before 
the matter was cleared up, and I found ont in the next 
world — where I suppose people know everything — that I 
had been wrong, I should have been obliged to have asked 
for a furlough to come back again to set it straight. Alice 
will be fidgeting her life out, and we must set out at once; 
so let us have no more nonsense about delay.” 

Frank offered no further resistance, and agreed to start 
on the following morning. 

“ You look more like yourself now, Frank,” his uncle 
said, “for, except by the tones of your voice, I should 
hardly have known you. You must have grown ten inches 
bigger round the shoulders than you were, and have grown 
into a very big man. You don’t look so big here, where 
there are so many burly miners about, but when you get 
back to London people will quite stare at you. Your face 
at present is tanned almost black, and that beard, which 
I suppose is the result of exposure, makes you look half a 
dozen years older than you really are. I hope you will 
shave it off at once, and look like a civilized English 
gentleman.” 

“I suppose I must do so,” Frank said, rather ruefully, 
“for one never sees a beard in London, except on a for- 
eigner. I suppose some day men will be sensible and wear 
them.” 

They sat talking until late in the night, Frank hearing 
all particulars of the discovery of Harry’s relationship to 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


B^O 

Captain Bayley, and the news of all that had taken place 
since he had left England. He arranged for sleeping 
accommodation for them for the night in the hut of the 
storekeeper for whom he brought up provisions, judging 
that this was more comfortable and quiet for them than in 
the crowded and noisy plank edifice called the hotel. The 
next morning they started by the coach for Sacramento, 
Erank ordering the muleteers to follow with the animals at 
once. It was a twenty-four hours’ drive; hut it did not 
seem a long one to any of them, for Frank had so much to 
tell about his doings and adventures from the day when he 
last saw them, that there was scarce a pause in their 
talk, until at night Captain Bayley and Harry dozed in 
their corner of the coach, while Frauk got outside and sat 
and smoked by the driver, being altogether too excited by 
the sudden arrival of his uncle, and the change in all his 
plans, to feel inclined for sleep. It was ten o’clock in the 
morning when they drove into Sacramento. 

“I think, uncle, I will just go round to my house, for I 
keep one regularly here, and put on the garb of civilization. 
Alice would not recognize me in this red shirt and high 
boots.” 

“Stuff and nonsense!” Captain Bayley said. “You 
had a wash-up when we breakfasted, and what do you want 
more? There, go up and see the girl at once, Harry and 
I will join you in a minute or two; according to my experi- 
ence, these sort of meetings are always better without the 
presence of a third party,” and the old officer winked at 
his grandson as Frank sprang up the stairs after the waiter 
whom Captain Bayley directed to show him to Miss 
Hardy’s sitting-room. 

Although Captain Bayley had told him that Alice had 
become a young woman, Frank had not realized the change 
that three years had produced in her. He had left her a 
laughing girl— a dear little girl, Frank had always thought 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


321 


1 


— but scarcely pretty, and he stood for a moment in aston- 
ishment at the tall and very beautiful young woman of 
eighteen who stood before him. Alice was no less aston- 
ished, and for a moment could scarcely credit that this 
broad muscular man was her old playfellow, Frank. The 
pause was but momentary on both parties, and with a cry 
of joy and welcome the girl ran into his arms as frankly 
and naturally as she had done as a child. 

“There, that’s enough, Frank,” she said presently. 
“You mustn’t do that any more, you know, because I am 
grown up, and you know we are not really even cousins.” 

“Cousins or not, Alice,” Frank said, laughing, “I have 
kissed you from the time yon were a child, and if you sup- 
pose I am going to give it up now, when there is a real 
pleasure in kissing you, you are mistaken, I can tell you.” 

“We shall see about that, sir,” the girl said; “we are in 
California now, among wild people, but when we get back 
to England we must behave like civilized beings. But, 
oh Frank, what a monster of a dog! Is he savage? He 
looks as if he were going to fly at me.” 

For Turk, to whom greetings of this sort were entirely 
new, was standing at the door, his bristles half-raised, 
doubtful whether Alice was to be treated as a friend or foe. 

“Come here, Turk. He is the best of dogs, Alice, 
though it is well not to put him out, for he has killed two 
men, one in defense of our money, the other of myself; 
but he is the dearest of dogs, and I will tell you some day 
how I found him. Come here, Turk, and give your hand 
to this lady, she is a very great friend of your master.” 

Turk gravely approached and offered his paw, which 
Alice took cautiously, Frank’s report of his doings being 
by no means encouraging. Turk, satisfied now that there 
was no occasion for his interference, threw himself down 
at full length upon the hearthrug, and Alice turned to 
Frank. 


322 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY’S HEIR. 


“I am so glad you are coming home again.” 

“And I am glad to be coming home again,” Frank said, 
“or rather I shall be when this matter is quite cleared up.” 

“I should not bother any more about it,” Alice said 
decidedly. “Uncle Harry and I are all quite, quite sure 
that you had nothing to do with that horrible business, 
and that ought to be quite enough for you.” 

“It isn’t quite enough, Alice,” he said, “although it is 
a very great deal ; but we need not talk about that now. 
Oh, here is uncle.” 

In the course of the day Alice heard of the new light 
which had been thrown on the matter by the discovery 
that Frank had written to protest his innocence, which 
letter had never come to hand, and that it was Fred who 
had urged Frank to fly and had supplied him with money 
to do so. 

“I always knew he was at the bottom of it,” Alice said 
decidedly. “I always said it was Fred. But I hope, 
Frank, you or uncle don’t mean to take any steps to get 
him into trouble. I hate him, you know, and always 
have; still, I think he will be punished enough with the 
loss of the money he so wickedly tried to gain.” 

“I think so too, Alice; he has behaved like a scoundrel 
of the worst kind, but, for my part, I. am quite content to 
leave him alone. Still, we must if possible prove that I 
was innocent.” 

“But we all know you are innocent, Frank. Uncle 
never would have doubted it if it had not been for the stories 
Fred told.” 

“Yes, Alice; but all the fellows at Westminster were 
told I was guilty. I shall be constantly meeting them in 
the world, and all my life this blot will hang to me if it is* 
not set straight. When we get home I shall go back to 
the school and see if I cannot hit on some clew or other. 
Of course if Fred would confess it would be all right, but, 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY'S HEW. 


m 


after all, we have not a shadow of real proof against him. 
We have only our suspicion, and the fact that the letter 
did not come to hand; and if he faces it out, and declares 
he posted it all right, who is to gainsay him? Letters 
have gone wrong before now. I must clear myself if I 
can, hut I promise you that I will not bring public disgrace 
upon him if it can possibly be avoided.” 

“He ought to he publicly disgraced,” Captain Bayley 
roared, “the mean scoundrel, with his quiet voice and his 
treacherous lies. Not disgrace him? I would tie him up 
to a post in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and hire a bellman to 
stand on a chair beside him and tell the story of what he 
has done every half-hour. Why, sir, he would have taken 
in St. Dunstan with his pretended hesitation to say any- 
thing to your disadvantage, and the affectation of pain 
with which he hinted that you had confessed your guilt to 
him. The scoundrel, the rascal, the hypocrite! When I 
think what his work has done, that you were disgraced at 
school, and sent wandering for three years — not that that 
has done you any harm, rather the contrary — to think that 
Alice has been wretched, and I have been on thorns and 
out of temper with myself and every one else for the same 
time, that for the last year we have been wandering about 
Europe like three sentimental travelers, wasting our lives, 
spending our money, and making fools of ourselves, I tell 
you, sir, if I was sitting as president of a court-martial on 
him, I would give him five hundred lashes, and then order 
him to be drummed out of the regiment.” 

Frank was about to speak, but Alice shook her head to 
him behind her uncle’s back; she knew that his bark was 
much worse than his bite, and that, while contradiction 
would only render him obstinate, he would, if left alone, 
cool down long before the time for action arrived, and 
could then be coaxed into any course they might all agree 
upon. 


324 


CAPTAIN BA YLET'S HEIR. 


The next morning the party started for San Francisco. 
Frank had already found a purchaser for his team of mules 
at a good price, had wound up all his affairs, and obtained 
an order from the bank on their agents in England for the 
amount standing to his credit, which came to seven thou- 
sand five hundred and sixty pounds. 

His uncle was astounded when he heard how much 
Frank had earned in less than two years’ work. “ I shall 
look at these red-shirted ruffians with more respect in 
future, Frank; for, for aught I know, they may have tens 
of thousands standing to their credit at the bank.” 

“My luck has been exceptional, sir,” Frank said. “I 
might dig for another fifty years without making so much. 
Of course, there are people who have made a good deal 
more in the same time, but then there are thousands who 
are no richer than when they began. We had done little 
more than keep ourselves when we went to work on Adams’ 
claim. We had nearly four hundred apiece from him, 
besides what we made for our labor, for the horses pretty 
well kept us; then from the claim six hundred apiece. 
We had four thousand each out of the rich strike we made 
at the head of the gulch; the bank gave me two thousand 
more; the odd money represents the receipts of the rest of 
my digging and of my earnings with the mule team.” 

They started for Europe by the first steamer which left 
San Francisco for Pahama, and reached home without 
adventure. The next morning Captain Bayley took Frank 
to Mr. Griffith, and told him the story as he had learned 
it from Frank. 

“There, Griffith,” he said triumphantly, when he had 
finished, “if you are not ready to admit that you are the 
most obstinate, pig-headed fellow that ever lived, I give 
you up altogether.” 

“I was wrong, I am glad to see,” the lawyer said, smil- 
ing, “but I cannot admit that I was wrong as far as the 


CAPTAIN BA Y LEY'S HEIR. 


325 


evidence that was before me went; but certainly with the 
light our young friend has thrown upon the matter I can- 
not doubt that the view you took was the correct one. 
Still, remember there is still no actual proof such as a 
court of justice would go upon. Morally we may be con- 
vinced, but unless you obtain further evidence I do not 
think you are in a position openly to charge Fred Barkley 
with stealing that ten-pound note, nor do I see how you 
are to set about getting such evidence.” 

“We are going to try, anyhow,” Captain Bayley said. 
“Frank and I are going down to Westminster to-morrow 
to open the investigation again, and with what we know 
now it is hard if we don’t manage to get something.” 


326 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY B HEIR . 


CHAPTER XXII. 

CLEARED AT LAST. 

The following day, after lunch, Captain Bayley and 
Frank drove round to Westminster. Football was going 
on in Dean’s yard, and Frank recognized among the 
players many faces that he knew. It seemed strange to 
him to think that while he had gone through so much, 
and had grown from a boy into a man, that they had 
changed so little, and had been working away regularly at 
the old round of Euripides and Homer, Terence and Vir- 
gil. The carriage stopped at the entrance to Dean’s yard, 
and, alighting, they walked across to Mr. Richards’. 

Captain Bayley had written a line to the master, asking 
him if possible to remain at home, as he wished particularly 
to see him, and he and Frank were ushered straight into 
the master’s study. He shook hands with Captain Bayley, 
whose acquaintance he had made while Frank had boarded 
with him, and then looked at Frank; for a minute he did 
not recognize him, then he exclaimed in surprise, “Frank 
Norris!” 

“Yes, it’s I, sir,” Frank said; “I don’t ask you to take 
my hand, for you believe me guilty of the crime of which I 
was accused here. I can only say now, as I said then, that 
I am innocent. I know now that I was a fool to run away 
instead of facing it out, but I was desperate, because every 
one thought me guilty.” 

“Your schoolfellows did not, Norris,” Mr. Richards 
said. “I don’t think that I did, even at first; a few hours 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY 'S HEIR. 


327 


afterward I almost knew yon were innocent, and had you 
not run away I could have gone far to prove it.” 

Frank gave an exclamation of joy, and Captain Bayley 
exclaimed indignantly: 

“Then why did you not prove- it, sir? Why did you 
allow my nephew to remain with the foul disgrace on his 
name?” 

“I did not act without consideration,” Mr. Bichards said 
calmly. “Norris had gone, and I resolved if he returned 
again to say what I had learned; but my proofs were not 
absolute. We had made, it seemed to me, a terrible mis- 
take, and I did not wish to cause ruin to another boy unless 
it was absolutely necessary to do so to clear Norris. Now 
that he has returned I can no longer hesitate; but before 
I begin I must ask you both whether your suspicions have 
fallen on any one else?” 

“It is not suspicion, sir, it is certainty,” Captain Bayley 
said; “we have no doubt whatever that the whole thing 
was the work of Frank’s rascally cousin, Fred Barkley. 
He was, you know, a sort of rival of Frank for my favor, 
and he had reason to believe that I had determined that 
Frank should inherit the larger portion of my property; 
thus he had a motive for bringing disgrace on him. It 
was just as probable that he should have stolen the money 
and sent it to Frank as that Frank should have stolen it 
himself; so far it seemed to me that it might lie between 
either of them. 

“What has settled the case in my mind is that I have 
learned that Fred was intrusted with a letter by Frank to 
me, declaring his innocence, which, as you know, I never 
doubted until Frank left without writing to me. That 
letter I never received, and I believe that it was sup- 
pressed. In the second place it was Fred who persuaded 
his cousin to take that ruinous step of running away, and 
pressed upon him money to enable him to do so, although 


m 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR. 


lie had refused to lend him a halfpenny when Frank 
required it to pay that broken-nosed tailor to hold his 
tongue.” 

“Very well,” Mr. Richards said, “then I can speak 
freely; my silence was caused to some considerable extent 
by regard for your feelings. You had lost one nephew, 
who had gone away with a cloud of disgrace surrounding 
him — for aught I could tell, Norris, in his despair, might 
have committed suicide, or he might have so cut himself 
off from you that you might never have heard from him 
again — thus, then, I felt that it would be cruel indeed to 
prove that your other nephew was a villain, unless by so 
doing I could restore Norris to you. So, after much 
thought and deliberation, I determined to hold my tongue 
until I heard that Norris had either returned or had been 
heard of. 

“On the morning when it was discovered that Frank 
had fled, I called up one by one the whole of the boys in the 
house. Even after his flight I could not believe that 
Norris had done this thing, it was so absolutely contrary 
to all that I knew of his disposition, and I determined to 
sift the matter to the bottom. From the elder boys I 
learned nothing, although I questioned them most closely 
as to everything that had taken place in the house during 
the past week. I was not disappointed, for I had hardly 
expected to learn much from them. 

“It was from the four boys who were the fags of the 
four who had been in Frank’s secret that I hoped to learn 
something, and I was not mistaken. From the three in 
the house I learned nothing; but when I came to Pearson, 
who was Barkley’s junior and fag, I met with even more 
success than I had expected. At first, of course, the boy 
did not like to say anything; but I told him that unless he 
answered my questions freely I should have him up before 
Doctor Litter, and he then told me all he knew about it. 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY'8 REI1 






“The more willingly, for, like mostyother boys in thexT( 
school, he was fond of Norris, while Barkley was by no' 
means a kind master. He said that twice Barkley had got /y 
into a rage with him about things which didn’t seem of \ 
any importance. The first occasion was a week previous. !•* 
He had gone into Barkley’s study to ask him to explain 
some difficulty in his Csesar; the door was not fastened, 
and as he had been working with his shoes off, Barkley did 
not hear him till he was close to the table. The boy 
noticed that he had a sheet of writing-paper before him, 
on which he was writing, not in his usual hand, but in 
printed characters. He would have thought nothing of 
it had not Barkley, on looking up and seeing him standing 
there, jumped up in a sudden rage and boxed his ears furi- 
ously, calling him a prying little sneak. The boy could 
not fix this to a day, but it was certainly just about the 
time when this letter was posted to you. 

“The other affair had happened the day previously. He 
had gone into Barkley’s room with his books on coming 
down from school at twelve o’clock, and seeing on his table 
a letter stamped and ready for the post, he supposed that 
as usual he was to post it, and was running downstairs 
with it in his hand when he met Barkley coming up. 

4 What have you got there?’ he asked. ‘I am taking your 
letter to the post,’ he said; whereupon Barkley fleAv into 
another rage, called him an officious little beast, gave him 
a box in the ear, and took the letter from him. I asked 
the boy if he noticed to whom the letter was directed. He 
said he had, and that it was to you. Knowing nothing 
about the suppression of a letter of Norris’, and thiuking 
that perhaps Barkley had written to his uncle about the 
matter, and had then changed his mind about posting it, 
this second affair did not strike me as having any impor- 
tance whatever. The first matter, however, seemed im- 
portant, for that just at the time when a letter was sent to 


330 


CAPTAIN BA YLEY’S HEIR. 


Norris written in printing characters Barkley should have 
been seen writing a letter of that sort, struck me as most 
remarkable; and although I did not know exactly how the 
two lads stood in reference to yourself, it struck me at 
once that it was at least possible that we had been wrong, 
and that it was Barkley after all who took the note. 

“ Had I suspected for an instant that he had done it to 
bring disgrace upon his cousin, I should at once have com- 
municated with Dr. Litter, and have probed the affair 
from the bottom ; but I thought that he had taken the note 
with the intention of helping his cousin out of ' his diffi- 
culty, and that when the note was traced, and the matter 
became public, he had in a base and cowardly manner 
allowed Frank to bear the blame. This would have been 
bad enough in all conscience, although comparatively venial 
to his deliberate attempt to bring disgrace upon Norris. 

“However, the matter seemed bad enough to me as it 
stood; but, as I said, I shrunk from causing the ruin of 
another young fellow unless it was necessary to clear Norris. 
I hesitated for a long time whether, knowing as much as I 
did, I ought not to take some steps in the matter; but for 
the reasons I have told you I determined to wait, hoping 
that you would soon have Norris back again, and knowing 
that I should hear of his return from some of the boys who 
were his special friends. Barkley must have seen from my 
manner that there was something wrong between him and 
me; but he never asked me the reason for the change in 
my manner to him, and completely ignored my coolness. 
It was a relief to me when the time came for his going 
up to the university, for I then felt that some of the 
responsibility was off my shoulders, and that I was no 
longer shirking my duty to expose him. 

“That is all, Captain Bayley; but I think that this, 
with what you have told me* is quite sufficient to bring 
the guilt home to the true party, and to completely clear 
Norris.” 


CAPTAIN BAYLEY' 8 HEIR. 


331 


“ Quite sufficient,” Captain Bayley said, “and I am 
thankful indeed that you obtained the one missing link of 
evidence necessary to prove Frank’s innocence. I am 
greatly obliged to you, Mr. Richards, for the kind and 
thoughtful manner in which you acted, which was indeed 
in every way for the best; for had I at the time been made 
aware that Fred was the culprit, I should have gone half 
out of my mind at the injustice we had done Frank, and 
at not knowing where to find him or how to communicate 
with him. And now what is to be done next? I do not 
want this unhappy lad to be punished, but at the same 
time it is absolutely necessary that Frank’s innocence shall 
be publicly proclaimed. Fred will no doubt brazen it out.” 

There was silence for a minute or two, and then Mr. 
Richards said : 

“If you like, Captain Bayley, I will take the matter in 
hand. I will write to Barkley and tell him that Norris 
has now come home, and that I must therefore take up 
the matter at the point at which I dropped it. I will 
recapitulate to him the reasons that there are for suppos- 
ing that he stole the money — first, his interest in Frank’s 
disgrace; secondly, the fact that he was seen writing a 
letter in printed characters on the day on which the note 
was sent to Norris; thirdly, his suppression of the letter 
to yourself; fourthly, the part he took in persuading Norris 
to run away; lastly, the hints which you say he gave you 
that Norris had confessed his guilt. 

“ I shall tell him I have had this interview with you ; 
that you are thoroughly convinced of his guilt and of 
Norris’ innocence; and that while you are determined that 
Norris shall be vindicated, you are desirous that his act of 
treacherous villainy shall not be made public; if, then, he 
will write a confession, saying that he took it, this con- 
fession shall not be made public. 

“I shall of course show it to the doctor, and explain the 


332 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


•whole circumstances to him, and ask him to make a public 
statement in school to the boys, to the effect that it has 
been found out that Norris was not guilty of the act of 
which two years ago he was charged, and that the real thief 
has been discovered, but that as he is no longer at school it 
is unnecessary now to- mention his name, and that, more- 
over, he has been heavily punished for the crime — which 
indeed is the case — by his loss of your favor and of the 
fortune which he looked to obtain under your will. 

“ I shall tell Barkley that if he refuses to confess it will 
be necessary, in order to clear Norris, that the affair should 
be investigated in a public court, and that Dr. Litter will 
at once apply for a warrant for his apprehension on the 
charge of theft, and that the whole matter will then be 
gone into in a police court. I cannot doubt but that he will 
accept the first alternative, for the second will be ruin to 
him.” 

Captain Bayley cordially assented. Three days later 
Frank received a letter from Dr. Litter asking him to call 
upon him. 

“I am truly sorry, Norris,” the head-master said, as he 
entered, “for the injustice I did you; truly and heartily 
sorry. The affair caused me intense pain at the time; it 
has been on my mind ever since. Over and over again 
something has told me that you were innocent; and yet, 
thinking the case over again, my reason has always con- 
vinced me for the time of your guilt, for I could see no 
other possible solution of the mystery. I am glad indeed 
to find that I was mistaken, and that you were a victim of 
a piece of what I can only term villainy. The affair will 
be a lesson to me for my life, and henceforth I will never 
allow appearances, however apparently conclusive, to weigh 
against a uniformly excellent character. I trust that you 
will forgive my terrible error.” 

“I don’t see that you could have acted otherwise, sir,” 


CAPTAIN BA TLEY ’S HEIR. 


333 

Prank said, “for even at the time, although I knew that I 
was innocent, I perceived that the proofs against me were 
so overwhelmingly strong that my guilt must appear a 
certainty to every one. I am happy indeed that I am 
cleared at last; and, after all, it has done me no harm. I 
have, of course, lost the university education which I 
looked forward to; but I think, after all, that the three 
years I have spent in America have in many ways done me 
more good than the university could have done.” 

“Very likely, Norris,” the doctor said; “they have in 
every sense of the word made a man of you, and a very 
fine man too, and I sincerely trust that no further cloud 
will ever fall upon your career. And now I want you to 
come to school with me, for I must publicly make amends 
for my error, and set you right before the school.” 

As Frank followed Dr. Litter into the great schoolroom 
he felt infinitely more nervous than he had done in any of 
the dangers he had passed through in his journey across 
the plains. When the head-master was seen to enter the 
school accompanied by a gentleman, a silence of sur- 
prise fell upon the boys, for such an event was altogether 
unprecedented there.' As in the stranger, who stood 
nearly as tall and far broader than the doctor, many of 
the boys in the upper forms recognized Frank Norris, a 
buzz ran round the school, followed again by the silence of 
excited expectation. Dr. Litter walked to his table at the 
further end of the school and then turned. 

“ You will all stand up,” he said. “Boys,” he went on, 
“all of you in the fifth form, and those above it, and some 
of you in the under forms, will recognize in the gentleman 
who stands beside me your former schoolfellow Norris; 
those who do will be aware of the circumstances under 
which he left, and will be aware that I charged him with 
stealing a note of the value of ten pounds from my desk. 
I am happy to say that it has been proved that charge 
was entirely false,” 


334 


CAPTAIN BAY LEY'S HEIR. 


A sudden burst of enthusiastic cheering broke from the 
upper forms. Norris’ innocence had been a matter of 
faith among his schoolfellows, and even his running away 
had not sufficed to shake their trust in him. They stood 
upon the forms and cheered until they were hoarse. At 
last a wave of the doctor’s hand restored silence, and he 
went on. 

“ I wish now, before you all, boys, to express my deep 
regret to Norris, and to apologize to him most heartily for 
the accusation which I made. I have now in my hand the 
confession of the real culprit. I shall not mention his 
name; he has long since ceased to be among you, and I 
may say that he has been punished severely, though to my 
mind most insufficiently, for his crime, and as Norris is 
desirous that the matter shall be dropped, the least I can 
do is to give in to his Wishes. And now, as I think that 
after this you will scarcely do any useful work this after- 
noon, you may as well go down at once.” 

A fresh roar of cheering broke out, and then the boys 
who had been at school with Frank jumped from their 
forms and crowded round him, each striving to grasp his 
hand, and all shouting words of welcome and congratula- 
tion. 

It was some time before Frank could reply to these greet- 
ings, so shaken was he by the scene. On emerging from 
the schoolroom his old house-mates urged him to go up to 
Richards’, and the sixth were invited to accompany him. 
Although contrary to the usual rules, an unlimited supply 
of shandy-gaff was sent for, and for an hour Frank sat and 
chatted with his old schoolfellows, and to their great 
admiration gave them an outline of his adventures on the 
Mississippi, his journey across the plains, and as a gold- 
digger in California; then with a glad heart, and a feeling 
that he was at last cleared of the cloud which had so long 
hung over him, Frank returned to Eaton Square. 


CAP TAW BA TLEY'S HEIR. 


335 


His path in life never afterward crossed that of his 
cousin. The latter, after passing through the university 
with credit, entered the bar. Somehow he was not suc- 
cessful there. That he was clever all allowed, but a cloud 
seemed to hang over him. The tale of Frank’s reinstalla- 
tion had gone up from Westminster to the university; his 
old schoolfellows there had talked the matter over, and 
although nothing was known for certain, somehow the 
belief that Barkley was the culprit spread among them. 

He had never been popular, and now his old school- 
fellows gradually drew aloof from him. Nothing was ever 
openly said. The thing was talked of in whispers, but 
even whispers, sometimes, are heard; and during his last 
year at the university Fred Barkley stood alone among his 
fellows. The whispers found their echo in town and Fred 
Barkley found that a cloud rested on him which all his 
efforts were unable to dissipate. After some years of use- 
less attempts to make his way, he was glad to accept the 
offer of a petty judgeship in India, and there, ten years 
later, he died, stabbed to the heart by a Mohammedan dacoit 
whom he had sentenced to a term of imprisonment. 

A year after his return from America Frank married 
Alice. Turk, for some time after his arrival in England, 
had steadily declined all advances which she made to him, 
perceiving clearly in his heart that she was a rival in his 
master’s affection. He had at last, however, the good 
sense to accept the situation; but to the end of his life, 
which was a long one, he never accorded her more than 
toleration, keeping all the affection of his great heart for 
his master, although in his old years he took to his master’s 
children, and endured patiently, if not cordially, the affec- 
tion which they bestowed upon him. 

Frank sits in parliament at present, as member for the 
county in which the broad estates which came to him witli 
his wife are situated.- It was rather a disappointment to 


V 


■ 


33(3 CAPTA Itf PA YLUY 'S HKffl. 

her that he did not distinguish himself greatly in parlia- 
ment, but he was fonder of the country life of an English 
gentleman than of the squabbles at Westminster. He can 
always be depended upon to vote with his party, and he 
occasionally makes vigorous and indignant attacks against 
any policy which he believes to be lowering the prestige 
and position of his country; but, except upon occasions 
when subjects of national interest are being discussed, he 
is seldom to be found in the House, and his wife is now well 
content with his reputation as one of the best masters of 
fox-hounds, one of the best landlords, and one of the most 
popular country gentlemen in England. 

Captain Bayley died but ten years ago, at a great age, 
and his grandson, long since able to dispense with his 
crutches, is one of the most prominent members in the 
house of commons. He could, had he chosen, have long 
since had a place in the ministry, but he declined, as it 
would have taken too much of his time from the favorite 
subject which occupies the chief part of his thoughts and 
life, namely the effort to ameliorate the condition of the 
poorer classes in the great towns. 

Evan Holl is a distinguished engineer. The business of 
John Holl, Dust Contractor, is still carried on under that 
name by the children of John and Sarah, who died within 
a few days of each other, some twenty years since, full of 
happiness and contentment. 


THE END. 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS 

For Young People 

BY POPULAR WRITERS, 

97-99-101 Reade Street, New York, 


Bonnie Prince Charlie : A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. By 
CL A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

The adventures of the son of a Scotch officer in French service. 
The boy, brought up by a Glasgow bailie, is a rested for aiding a 
Jacobite agent, escapes, is wrecked on the French coast, reaches 
Paris, and serves with the French army at Dettingen. He kills 
his father’s foe in a duel, and escaping to the coast, shares the 
adventures of Prince Charlie, but finally settles happily in Scot- 
land. 

“ Ronald, the hero, is very like the hero of ‘ Quentin Durward.’ The lad’s 
journey across France, and his hairbreadth escapes, make up as good a nar- 
rative of the kind as we have ever read. For freshness of treatment and 
variety of incident Mr. Henty has surpassed himself.” — Spectator. 

With Clive in India ; or, the Beginnings of an Empire. By 
G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

The period between the landing of Clive as a young writer in 
India and the close of his career was critical and eventful in the 
extreme. At its commencement the English were traders existing 
on sufferance of the native princes. At its close they were masters 
of Bengal and <>f the greater part of Southern India. The author 
has given a full and accurate account of the events of that stirring 
time, and battles and sieges follow each other in rapid succession, 
while he combines with his narrative a tale of daring and adven- 
ture, which gives a lifelike interest to the volume. 

“ He has taken a period of Indian history of the most vital importance, 
and he has embroidered on the historical facts a story which of itself is deeply 
interesting. Young people assuredly will be delighted with the volume.”— 
Scotsman. 

The Lion of the North : A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus and the 
Wars of Religion. By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illus- 
trations by John Schonberg. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

In this story Mr. Hen y gives the history of the first part of the 
Thirty Years’ War. The issue had its importance, which has ex- 
tended to the present day, as it established religious freedom 
in Germany. The army of the chivalrous king of Sweden was 
largely composed of Scotchmen, and among these was the hero of 
the story. 

“The tale is a clever and instructive piece of history, and as boys may b* 
trusted to read it conscientiously, they can hardly fail to be profited. Times, 


2 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS. 


The Dragon and the Raven; or, The Days of King Alfred. By 

G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by C. J. Stani- 

land, R. I. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

In this story the author gives an account of the fierce struggle 
between Saxon and Dane for supremacy in England, and presents 
a vivid picture of the misery and ruin to which the country was 
reduced by the ravages of the sea-wolves. The hero, a young 
Saxon thane, takes part in all the battles fought by King Alfred. 
He is driven from his home, takes to the sea and resists the Danes 
on their own element, and being pursued by them up the Seine, 
is present at the long and desperate siege of Paris. 

“ Treated in a manner most attractive to the boyish reader .” — Athenaeum 

The Young Carthaginian: A Story of the Times of Hannibal. 

By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by C. J. Stand 

land, R.I. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

Boys reading the history of the Punic Wars have seldom a keen 
appreciation of the merits of the contest. That it was at first a 
Struggle for empire, and afterward for existence on the part of 
Carthage, that Hannibal was a great and skillful general, that he 
defeated the Romans at Trebia, Lake Trasimenus, and Cannae, 
and all but took Rome, represents pretty nearly the sum total of 
their knowledge. To let them know more about this momentous 
struggle for the empire of the world Mr. Henty has written this 
story, which not only gives- in graphic style a brilliant descrip- 
tion of a most interesting period of history, but is a tale of ex- 
citing adventure sure to secure the interest of the reader. 

“ Well constructed and vividly told. From first to last nothing stays the 
interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a Jstream whose current 
varies in direction, but never loses its force.”— Saturday Review. 

In Freedom’s Cause : A Story of Wallace and Bruce. ByG. A. 

Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 

12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

In this story the author relates the stirring tale of the Scottish 
War of Independence. The extraordinary valor and personal 
prowess of Wallace and Bruce rival the deeds of the mythical 
heroes of chivalry, and indeed at one time Wallace was ranked 
with these legendary personages. The researches of modern 
historians have shown, however, that he was a living, breathing 
man — and a valiant champion. The hero of the tale fought under 
both Wallace and Bruce, and while the strictest historical accuracy 
has been maintained with respect to public events, the work is 
full of “hairbreadth ’scapes” and wild adventure. 

“ It is written in the author’s best style. Full of the wildest and most re- 
markable achievements, it is a tale of great interest, which a boy, once he has 
begun it, will not willingly put on one side H ”— The Schoolmaster. 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS. 


3 


With Lee in Virginia: A Story of the American Civil War. By 

G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon 

Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

The story of a young Virginian planter, who, after bravely 
proving his sympathy with the slaves of brutal masters, serves 
with no less courage and enthusiasm under Lee and Jackson 
through the most exciting events of the struggle. He has many 
hairbreadth escapes,, is seve r al times wounded and twice taken 
prisoner; but his courage and readiness and, in two cases, the 
devotion of a black servant and of a runaway slave whom he had 
assisted, bring him safely through all difficulties. 

“ One of the best stories for lads which Mr. Henty has yet written. The 
picture is full of life and color, and the stirring and romantic incidents are 
skillfully blended with the personal interest and charm of the story.”- 
Standard. 

By England’s Aid ; or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585- 

1604). By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by 

Alfred Pearse, and Maps. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

The story of two English lads who go to Holland as pages in 
the service of one of “ the lighting Veres.” After many adven- 
tures by sea and land, one of the lads finds himself on board a 
Spanish ship at the time of the defeat of the Armada, and escapes 
only to fall into the hands of the Corsairs. He is successful in 
getting back to Spain under the protection of a wealthy merchant, 
and regains his native country after the capture of Cadiz. 

“It is an admirable book for youngsters. It overflows with stirring inci- 
dent and exciting adventure, and the color of the era and of the scene are 
finely reproduced. The illustrations add to its attractiveness.”— Boston 
Gazette. 

By Right of Conquest ; or, With Cortez in Mexico. By G. A. 

Henty. With full- page Illustrations by W. S. Stacey, and 

Two Maps. 12mo, cloth, price $1.50. 

The conquest of Mexico by a small band of resolute men under 
the magnificent leadership of Cortez is always rightly ranked 
among the most romantic and daring exploits in history. With 
this as the groundwork of his story Mr. Henty has interwoven the 
adventures of an English youth, Roger Hawkshaw, the sole sur- 
vivor of the good ship Swan, which had sailed from a Devon port 
to challenge "the mercantile supremacy of the Spaniards in the 
New World. He is beset by many perils among the natives, but 
is saved by his own judgment and strength, and by the devotion 
of an Aztec princess. At last by a ruse lie obtains the protection 
of the Spaniards, and after the fall of Mexico he succeeds in re- 
gaining his native shore, with a fortune and a charming Aztec 
bride. 

“ ‘ By Right of Conquest ’ is the nearest approach to a perfectly successful 
historical tale that Mr. Henty has yet published.”— Academy. 


4 


A. L. Btmrs PTTBLICAf IONS. 


ii\ the Reign of Terror : The Adventures of a Westminster Boy. 
By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by J. SchoN- 
berg. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

Harry Sandwith, a Westminster boy, becomes a resident at the 
chateau of a French marquis, and afDr various adventures accom. 
yanies the family to Paris at the crisis of the Revolution. Im- 
prisonment and death reduce their number, and the hero finds 
himself beset by perils with the three young daughters of the 
house in his charge. After hairbreadth escapes they reach Nan- 
tes. There the girls are condemned to death in the coffin--liips, 
but are saved by the unfailing courage of their boy protector. 

“ Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly be said to beat Mr. 
Henty ’s record. His adventures will delight boys by the audacity and peril 
they depict. . . The story is one of Mr. Henty’s lest .” — Saturday 

Review. 

With Wolfe in Canada ; or, The Winning of a Continent. By 
G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

In the present volume Mr. Henty gives an account of the strug- 
gle between Britain and France for supremacy in the North 
American continent. On the issue of this war depended not only 
the destinies of North America, but to a large extent those of the 
mother countries themselves. The fall of Quebec decided that 
the Anglo-Saxon race should predominate in the New World; 
that Britain, and not France, should take the lead among the 
nations of Europe; and that English and American commerce, the 
English language, and English literature, should spread right 
round the globe. 

“ It is not only a lesson in history as instructively as it is graphically told, 
but also a deeply interesting and often thrilling tale of adventure and peril by 
flood and field .'"—Illustrated London News. 

True to the Old Flag; A Tale of the American War of Inde- 
pendence. By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by 
Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

In this story the author has gone to the accounts of officers who 
took part in the conflict, and lads will find that in no war in which 
American and British soldiers have been engaged did they behave 
with greater courage and good conduct. The historical portion of 
the book being accompanied with numerous thrilling adventures 
with the redskins on the shores of Lake Huron, a story of exciting 
interest is interwoven with the general narrative and carried 
through the book. 

“ Does justice to the pluck and determination of the British soldiers during 
the unfortunate struggle against American emancipation. The son of an 
American loyalist, who remains true to our flag, falls among the hostile red- 
skins in that very Huron country which has been endeared to us by the ex- 
ploits of Rawkeye and Chingachgook.”— T7te Times. 


Ac L. BUST’S PUBLICATIONS. 


5 


The Lion of St. Mark : A Tale of Venice in the Fourteenth 

Century. By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by 
Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

A story of Venice at a period when her strength and splendor 
were put to the severest tests. The hero displays a fine sense and 
manliness which carry him safely through an atmosphere of in- 
trigue, crime, and bloodshed. He contributes largely to the vic- 
tories of the Venetians at Porto d’Anzo and Chioggia, and finally 
wins the hand of the daughter of one of the chief men of Venice. 

“ Every boy should read ‘ The Lion of St. Mark.’ Mr. Henry has never pro- 
duced a story more delightful, more wholesome, or more vivacious.”— -Satur- 
day Review. 

A Final Reckoning: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. ByG. A. 

Henty, With full-page Illustrations by W. B. Wollen. 

22mo, cloth, price $1.00, 

The hero, a young English lad. after rather a stormy boyhood, 
emigrates to Australia, and gets employment as an officer in the 
mounted police. A few years of active work on the frontier, 
where he has many a brush with both natives and bushrangers, 
gain him promotion to a captaincy, and he eventually settles 
down to the peaceful life of a squatter. 

“ Mr. Henty has never published a more readable, a more carefully con- 
structed, or a better written story than this.”— Spectator. 

Under Drake’r Flag : A Tale of the Spanish Main. By G. A. 

Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 

12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

A story of the days when England and Spain struggled for the 
supremacy of the sea. The heroes sail as lads with Drake in the 
Pacific expedition, and in his great voyage of circumnavigation. 
The historical portion of the story is absolutely to be relied upon, 
but this will perhaps be less attractive than the great variety of 
exciting adventure through which the young heroes pass in the 
course of their voyages. 

'' A book of adventure, where the hero meets with experience enough, one 
would think, to turn his hair gray."— Harper's Monthly Magazine. 

By Sheer Pluck ; A 'bale of the Ashanti War. By G. A. Henty. 

With full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo ? 

cloth, price $1.00. 

The author has woven, in a tale of thrilling interest, all the de- 
tails of the Ashanti campaign, of which he was himself a witness. 
His hero, after many exciting adventures in the interior, is de- 
tained a prisoner by the king just before the outbreak of the war, 
but escapes, and accompanies the English expedition on their 
march to Coomassie. 

“ Mr. Henty keeps up his reputation as a writer of boys’ stories. * By Sheer 
Pluck ’ will be eagerly read. ’ '—Athenceurtk 


6 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS. 


By Pike and Dyke : A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic. 
By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Maynarr 
Brown, and 4 Maps. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

In this story Mr. Henty traces the adventures and brave deeds 
of an English boy in the household of the ablest man of his age— 
William the Silent. Edward Martin, the son of an English sea. 
captain, enters the service of the Prince as a volunteer, and is em- 
ployed by him in many dangerous and responsible missions, in the 
discharge of which he passes through the great sieges of the timev 
He ultimately settles down as Sir Edward Martin. 

“ Boys with a turn for historical research will be enchanted with the book, 
while the rest who only care for adventure. will be students in spite of them' 
selves.”— St. James' Gazette. 

St. George for England : A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers. By 
G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

No portion of English history is more crowded with great events 
than that of the reign of Edward III. Cressy and Poitiers; the 
destruction of the Spanish fleet; the plague of the Black Death; 
the Jacquerie rising; these are treated by the author in “ St. 
George for England.” The hero of the story, although of good 
family, begins life as a London apprentice, but after countless ad 
ventures and perils becomes by valor and good conduct the squire, 
and at last the trusted friend of the Black Prince. 

“Mr. Henty has developed for himself a type of historical novel for boys 
which bids fair to supplement, on their behalf, the historical labors of Sir 
Walter Scott in the laud of fiction .” — The Standard. 

Captain’s Kidd’s Gold : The True Story of an Adventurous Sailor 
Boy. By James Franklin Fitts. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 
There is something fascinating to the average youth in the very 
idea of buried treasure. A vision arises before his eyes of swarthy 
Portuguese and Spanish rascals, with black beards and gleaming 
eyes — sinister-looking fellows who once on a time haunted th? 
Spanish Main, sneaking out from some hidden creek in their long, 
low schooner, of picaroonisk rake and sheer, to attack an unsus- 
pecting trading craft. There were many famous sea rovers in 
their day, but none more celebrated than Capt. Kidd. Perhaps 
the most fascinating tale of all is Mr. Fitts’ true story of an adven 
turous American boy, who receives from his dying father an 
ancient bit of vellum, which the latter obtained in a curious way. 
The document bears obscure directions purporting to locate a cer 
tain island in the Bahama group, and a considerable treasure 
buried there by two of Kidd’s crew. The hero of this book, 
Paul Jones Garry, is an ambitious, persevering lad, of salt-water 
New England ancestry, and his efforts to reach the island and 
secure the money form one of the most absorbing tales for our 
youth that has come from the press. 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS. 


7 


Captain Bayley’s Heir : A Tale of tlie Gold Fields of California, 

By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by H. M. 

Paget. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

A frank, manly lad and his cousin are rivals in the heirship'of a 
co siderable property. The former falls into a trap laid by the 
latter, and while under a false accusation of theft foolishly leaves 
England for America. He works his passage before the mast, 
joins a small band of hunters, crosses a tract of country infested 
with Indians to the Californian gold diggings, and is successful 
both as digger and trader. 

“ Mr. Henty is careful to mingle instruction with entertainment; and the 
humorous touches, especially in the sketch of John Holl, the Westminster 
dustman, Dickens himself could hardly have excelled . 11 — Christian Leader. 

For Name and Fame ; or, Through Afghan Passes. By G. A 

Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 

12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

An interesting story of the last war in Afghanistan. The hero, 
after being wrecked and going through many stirring adventures 
among the Malays, finds his way to Calcutta and enlists in a regi- 
ment proceeding to join the army at the Afghan passes. He ac- 
companies the force under General Roberts to the Peiwar Kotal, 
is wounded, taken prisoner, carried to Cabul, whence he is trans- 
ferred to Candahar, and takes part in the final defeat of the army 
of Ayoub Khan. 

“The best feature of the book— apart from the interest of its scenes of ad- 
venture— is its honest effort to do justice to the patriotism of the Afghan 
people . 11 — Daily News. 

Captured by Apes : The Wonderful Adventures of a Young 

Animal Trainer. By Harry Prentice. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. 

The scene of this tale is laid on an island in the Malay Archi- 
pelago. Philip Garland, a young animal collector and trainer, of 
New York, sets sail for Eastern seas in quest of a new stock of 
living curiosities. The vessel is wrecked off the coast of Borneo 
and young Garland, the sole survivor of the disaster, is cast ashore 
on a small island, and captured by the apes that overrun the 
place. The lad discovers that the ruling spirit of the monkey 
tribe is a gigantic and vicious baboon, whom he identifies as 
Goliah, an animal at one time in his possession and with whose 
instruction he had been especially diligent. The brute recognizes 
him, and with a kind of malignant satisfaction puts his former 
master through the same course of training he had himself ex- 
perienced with a faithfulness of detail which shows how astonish- 
ing is monkey recollection. Very novel indeed is the way by 
which the young man escapes death. Mr. Prentice has certainly 
worked a new vein on juvenile fiction, and the ability with which 
he handles a difficult subject stamps him as a writer of undoubted 
skill 


8 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS. 


The Bravest of the Brave ; or, With Peterborough in Spain. 

By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by H. M. 

Paget. 12m*>, cloth, price $1.00. 

There are fe\y great leaders whose lives and actions have so 
completely fallen into oblivion as those of the Earl of Peter- 
borough. This is largely due to the fact that they were over- 
shadowed by the glory and successes of Marlborough. His career 
as general extended over little more than a year, and yet, in that 
time, he showed a genius for warfare which has never been sur 
passed. 

“ Mr. Henty never loses sight of the moral purpose of his work— to enforce 
the doctrine of courage and truth. Lads will read ‘ The Bravest of the Brave 
with pleasure and profit; of that we are quite sure.”— Daily Telegraph. 

The Cat of Bubastes : A Story of Ancient Egypt. By G. A. 

Henty. With full page Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

A story which will give young readers an unsurpassed insight 
into the customs of the Egyptian people. Amuba, a prince of the 
Rebu nation, is carried with his charioteer Jethro into slavery. 
They become inmates of the house of Ameres, the Egyptian high- 
p:ie6t. and are happy in his service until the priest’s son acci- 
dentally k’lls the sacred cat of Bubastes. In an outburst of popular 
fury Ameres is killed, and it rests with Jethro and Amuba to 
secure the escape of the high-priest’s son and daughter. 

“ The story, from the critical moment of the killing of the sacred cat to the 
perilous exodus into Asia with which it closes, is very skillfully constructed 
and full of exciting adventures. It is admirably illustrated .”— Saturday 
Review. 

With Washington at Monmouth : A Story of Three Phila- 
delphia Boys. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

Three Philadelphia boys, Seth Graydon “whose mother con- 
ducted a boarding-house which was patronized by the British 
officers;” Enoch Ball, “son of that Mrs. Ball whose dancing 
school was situated on Letitia Street,” and little Jacob, son of 
“Chris, the Baker,” serve as the principal characters. The 
story is laid during the winter when Lord Howe held possession 
of the city, and the lads aid the cause by assisting the American 
spies who make regular and frequent visits from Valley Forge. 
One reads here of home-life in the captive city when bread w r as 
scarce among the people of the lower classes, and a reckless prodi- 
gality shown by the British officers, who passed the winter in 
feasting and merry-making while the members of the patriot army 
but a few miles away were suffering from both cold and hunger. 
The story abounds with pictures of Colonial life skillfully 
drawn, and the glimpses of Washington’s soldiers which are given 
show that the work has not been hastily done, or without con- 
siderable study. 


A. L. BURTS PUBLICATIONS. 


3 


For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem. By G. A. 
Henty. With full-page Illustrations by S. J. Solomon. 12mo, 
cloth, price $1.00. 

Mr. Henty here weaves into the record of Josephus an admirable 
and attractive story. The troubles in the district of Tiberias, the 
march of the legions, the sieges of Jotapata, of Gamala, and of 
Jerusalem, form the impressive and carefully studied historic 
setting to the figure of the lad who passes from the vineyard to 
the service of Josephus, becomes the leader of a guerrilla band of 
patriots, fights bravely for the Temple, and after a brief term of 
slavery at Alexandria, returns to his Galilean home with the favor 
of Titus. 

“Mr. Henty’s graphic prose pictures of the hopeless Jewish resistance to 
Roman sway add another leaf to his record of the famous wars of the world v ' 

- - Graphic . 

Facing Death ; or, The Hero of the Vaughan Pit. A Tale of 
the Coal Mines. By G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustra- 
tions by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

“Facing Death” is a story with a purpose. It is intended to 
show that a lad who makes up his mind firmly and resolutely that 
he will rise in life, and who is prepared to face toil and ridicule 
and hardship to carry out his determination, is sure to succeed. 
The hero of the story is a typical British boy, dogged, earnest, 
generous, and though “ shamefaced” to a degree, is ready to face 
death in the discharge of duty. 

“ The tale is well written and well illustrated, and there is much reality in 
the characters. If any father, clergyman, or schoolmaster is on the lookout 
for a good book to give as a present to a boy who is worth his salt, this is the 
book we would recommend.” — Standard. 

Tom Temple’s Career. By Horatio Alger. 12mo, cloth, 
price $1.00. 

Tom Temple, a bright, self-reliant lad, by the death of his - 
father becomes a boarder at the home of Nathan Middleton, a 
penurious insurance agent. Though well paid for keeping the, 
boy, Nathan and his wife endeavor to bring Master Tom in line 
with their parsimonious habits. The lad ingeniously evades their 
efforts and revolutionizes the household. As Tom is heir to 
$40,000, he is regarded as a person of some importance until by 
an unfortunate combination of circumstances his fortune shrinks 
to a few hundreds. He leaves Plympton village to seek work ir 
New York, whence he undertakes an important mission to Cali- 
fornia, around which center the most exciting incidents of his 
young career. Some of his adventures in the far west are so 
startling that the reader will scarcely close the book until the last 
page shall have been reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger’s 
most fascinating style, and is bound to please the very large class 
of boys who regard this popular author as a prime favorite. 


10 


A. L. BURT’S PUBLICATIONS. 


Maori and Settler: A Story of the New Zealand War. By 

G. A. Henty. With full-page Illustrations by Alfred Pearse* 

12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

The Rensliaws emigrate to New Zealand during the period of 
the war with the natives. Wilfrid, a strong, self-reliant, coura- 
geous lad, is the mainstay of the household. He has for his friend 
Mr. Atherton, a botanist and naturalist of herculean strength and 
unfailing nerve and humor. In the adventures among the Maoris, 
there are many breathless moments in which the odds seem hope- 
lessly against the party, but they succeed in establishing them- 
selves happily in one of the pleasant New Zealand valleys. 

“Brimful of adventure, of humorous and interesting conversation, and 
vivid pictures of colonial lif e."— Schoolmaster. 

Julian Mortimer}: A Brave Boy’s Struggle for Home and Fortune. 

By Harry Castlemon. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

Here is a story that will warm every boy’s heart. There is 
mystery enough to keep any lad’s imagination wound up to the 
highest pitch. The scene of the story lies west of the Mississippi 
River, in the days when emigrants made their perilous way across 
the great plains to the land of gold. One of the startling features 
of the book is the attack upon the w r agon train by a large party of 
Indians. Our hero is a lad of uncommon nerve and pluck, a brave 
young American in every sense of the word. He enlists and holds 
the reader’s sympathy from the outset. Surrounded by an un- 
known and constant peril, and assisted by the unswerving fidelity 
of a stalwart trapper, a real rough diamond, our hero achieves the 
most happy results. Harry Castlemon has written many enter- 
taining stories for boys, and it would seem almost superfluous to 
say anything in his praise, for the youth of America regard him 
as a favorite author. 

“Carrots:” Just a Little Boy. By Mrs. Molesworth. With 

Illustrations by Walter Crane. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents. 

“ One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our good for- 
tune to meet with for some time. Carrots and his sister are delightful little 
beings, whom to read about is at once to become very fond of ."—Examiner. 

“A genuine children’s book; we’ve seen ’em seize it, and read it greedily. 
Children are first-rate critics, and thoroughly appreciate Walter Crane’s 
illustrations. ’ ''—Punch. 

Mopsa the Fairy. By Jean Ingelow. With Eight page 

Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents. 

“ Mrs. Ingelow is, to our mind, the most charming of all living writers for 
children, and ‘ Mopsa ’ alone ought to give her a kind of pre-emptive right to 
the love and gratitude of our young folks. It requires genius to conceive a 
purely imaginary work which must of necessity deal with the supernatural 
without running into a mere riot of fantastic absurdity; but genius Miss Ini 
gelow has and the story of ‘ Jack ’ is as careless and joyous, but as delicate, 
as a picture of childhood.”— Eclectic. 
























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